To Woo A Wife

Yet as their conversation continued he found he couldn’t move away. The two of them were very animated now, the man talking softly, but obviously slightly aggressively, while Abbie slowly shook her head in disagreement with what he was saying. The man broke off abruptly, and Abbie spoke to him now, that hand reassuringly on his arm once again. The man seemed to sigh his capitulation at what was being said, murmuring some sort of agreement, and Abbie nodded, a smile hovering about her sensuous lips.

The woman wasn’t just a mystery, she was an enigma, and Jarrett had too much else on his mind at the moment to try to get to the bottom of it. Maybe Abbie, for all she was such an old friend of Alison’s, was actually a high-class call-girl; it would certainly fit in with her reluctance to talk about herself, and the fact that she travelled so much without really enjoying it. It would also explain the single name of Abbie...

It did fit too, only too well, he slowly realised. A woman of Abbie’s undoubted beauty would be well sought after, could probably name her own price for the possession of that cool, elusive beauty, no matter how fleetingly.

Hell, he had probably spent the best part of the evening lusting after a woman who sold what he wanted from her! But he had never paid for a woman in his life—at least, not with cold, hard cash. Although expensive jewellery at the end of a brief relationship probably amounted to the same thing.

Oh, to hell with this, he inwardly cursed; if that was what she was he might as well have her himself for the night, and once he had he could get on with concentrating on the real reason he was here.

That decision made, he turned on his heel and walked back into the restaurant. Whatever arrangements Abbie was making to meet the blond Adonis later, she could damn well break. The only man she was going home with tonight was him. And it would be a night he intended them both to remember!

He watched her intently as she negotiated around the tables to where her party was seated, half expecting his desire for her to have lessened with the knowledge of what he now thought she was. But it hadn’t, the gently swaying hips, firm up-thrusting breasts, pert beneath the fitted sheath of her dress, only succeeded in evoking vivid images in his mind. Damn it, he had never wanted a woman as much as he now wanted Abbie—no matter what she was!

‘You shouldn’t have waited for me,’ she commented as she sat down, looking pointedly at Jarrett’s untouched steak.

His mouth twisted. ‘I didn’t. I’ve only just returned to the table myself,’ he added after a deliberate pause, observing her under hooded lids. And he wasn’t disappointed. She gave him a startled look, instantly wary, he realised with satisfaction.

‘Oh?’

She had to be wondering where he had been, to have just returned himself, must also be wondering if he had seen her talking to the blond Adonis. Well she could sit and wonder!

‘Successful telephone call?’ he said lightly before cutting into his perfectly cooked steak, seemingly uninterested in her answer. Because he knew she hadn’t made any telephone call!

‘Er—yes,’ she confirmed abruptly, still looking at him uncertainly.

‘Everything okay?’ Alison put in gently.

Abbie’s expression softened as she turned to her friend. ‘Everything is fine,’ she nodded warmly.

Were Alison and Stephen aware of what this woman did? Somehow he doubted it. Oh, Stephen was no angel, had been involved with lots of women before meeting Alison a few years ago, and Alison herself admitted to several relationships before Stephen. But what Abbie did was something else entirely, and certainly couldn’t be classed as relationships!

It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that Jarrett noticed the continued absence of the blond Adonis from his chair two tables away. The man, his business, he believed, successfully concluded, hadn’t even bothered to return and finish his meal. Well, he was going to regret later having missed out on his meal, and on Abbie—because Jarrett had plans of his own where she was concerned. And it was very rare for him not to get what he wanted!

The rest of the evening dragged as far as Jarrett was concerned, the exquisitely prepared food tasteless to him, his lack of contribution to the conversation drawing several veiled glances from those violet-blue eyes beneath long black lashes. Much to his satisfaction. He might as well be as much of a mystery to her as she was to him!

All the time his tension was rising, his anticipation of the night ahead making him completely introspective.

He had no idea how one went about paying a woman to go to bed with one.

But the blond Adonis had seemed to have no trouble arranging it, so neither would he!

CHAPTER THREE

ABBIE was all too aware of the brooding silence of the man sitting next to her, and of his steadily increasing tension.

But she had no logical explanation for his behaviour.

Oh, she had been a little concerned when he’d mentioned leaving the table at the same time she had, had wondered if he could have seen her out in the lobby talking to Tony. But, she had decided, even if he had witnessed that conversation, it would merely have looked as if the man who couldn’t ‘take his eyes off her’ had tried to strike up an acquaintance with her when he’d seen the opportunity of finding her on her own. And, as Tony hadn’t returned to his table, it would seem that he must have been rebuffed.

No, it couldn’t have been that which had changed Jarrett’s mood. Because it had changed. Unless his long silences were his way of sticking to his promise about keeping his cynicism to himself? She had wondered how he was going to manage that, when he obviously viewed life through such jaundiced eyes. Perhaps he had decided silence was the best course of action!

Not that she in the least minded his lack of participation in the conversation. She had been totally stunned earlier when he’d revealed that she—well, actually Sabina Sutherland—was the reason for his coming to Whistler. Although Alison had assured her, once they’d reached the powder-room, after Abbie’s choking fit, that neither she nor Stephen had been aware of Jarrett’s rea- son for being here, either. Nor did they know what business Jarrett had with Sabina Sutherland.

Jarrett was an entrepreneur—for that Abbie read opportunist! —with a finger in many pies. But as Sutherlands were also a multi-business company that told Abbie absolutely nothing. However, by the time Abbie returned to her private ski-lodge somewhere up the mountain, she should have all the information on Jarrett Hunter that she would need, in order to know whether or not she should see him as Sabina Sutherland...

She sincerely hoped the answer to that proved to be negative. Jarrett Hunter wasn’t a man she felt in the least comfortable with, and dealing with him on a business level would be like handling the unleashed tiger his eyes so reminded her of!

Eyes that watched her whenever he thought she was concentrating her interest elsewhere. And his interest was purely male, seeming to concentrate on each of her physical attributes in turn. She was sure she had been mentally stripped naked, and then reclothed, in the last hour!

‘Can I see you safely back to your suite?’ he offered smoothly later as they all left the restaurant together. ‘I’m sure Alison and Stephen are more than ready to disappear after this interruption to their honeymoon.’

Abbie delayed answering him as she smiled her thanks at the young man who had just returned her jacket and overcoat to her, the latter an expensive copy of a sable—she couldn’t stand the thought of wearing a real fur that had once covered some poor luckless animal’s body, but the icy Canadian winter called for warmth as well as comfort.

She wrapped the ankle-length coat about her before releasing her hair from the confines of its collar, turning to smile coolly at Jarrett. ‘As you can see by this coat,’ she commented, turning up the collar to keep her neck warm, ‘I’m not a guest at this hotel.’

He looked deeply irritated by this turn of events, scowling darkly. ‘Then perhaps I can see you back to the hotel you are staying at?’ he grated.

‘There’s no need,’ she dismissed, turning to hug first Alison and then Stephen. ‘It’s been lovely seeing you both. And dinner was lovely, too. I’ll return the compliment when we’re all back in London,’ she added, before at last turning back to Jarrett Hunter, holding out her hand in formal parting. ‘It was nice to meet you, Mr Hunter.’ Politeness demanded that she say at least that much!

His mouth twisted, the golden eyes full of scepticism as he took hold of the hand she held out so graciously. ‘Was it?’ he returned with dry derision, obviously not fooled by her politeness for a minute.

She gave a short nod of confirmation. ‘It’s always interesting to meet someone else from home on one’s travels, Mr Hunter,’ she returned noncommittally, pointedly removing her hand from his when he made no effort to release her.

He looked at her sharply. ‘If you miss home so much, perhaps you shouldn’t do so much—travelling.’

She met his gaze unflinchingly, not in the least sure what he meant by that remark—except that it had somehow sounded like a put-down! ‘I go where I’m needed,’ she clipped. ‘Now I really do have to go.’

‘I said I would like to see you home,’ Jarrett repeated with soft intent. ‘It’s late, and you shouldn’t go alone—’

‘But I’m not going alone, Mr Hunter, I have a car waiting for me outside,’ she said, the edge of the resistance she was feeling at his persistence creeping into her voice. For goodness’ sake, couldn’t he understand? She didn’t want his company, back to her hotel, or anywhere else for that matter!

His mouth tightened, a nerve pulsing in his jaw, his eyes suddenly pure molten gold. ‘In that case, I’ll walk you to your car.’ And without waiting for her agreement, or otherwise, he took a firm grasp of her arm, almost frogmarching her through the lobby.

Abbie turned briefly to give Alison and Stephen a last wave goodbye, Alison giving her a puzzled stare, Stephen frowning.

Which wasn’t surprising, when Jarrett was almost dragging her out of the hotel!

Abbie came to an abrupt halt on the pavement outside, her car already parked there waiting for her departure. ‘You’re behaving very—strangely, Mr Hunter,’ she snapped, releasing herself from his vice-like grip as she turned to face him.

‘I’m behaving strangely!’ he returned incredulously, eyes gleaming golden in the lamplight that shone from the front of the hotel.

Whistler was a small community that had grown into existence mainly because of the wonderful skiing conditions on Whistler Mountain, and its near neighbour, Blackcomb. The village itself had been designed more like a Swiss village, with double-storey chalet-type buildings. The hotels that thrived in the area had also been built to reflect this uniqueness, and at the moment Christmas lights still adorned trees and buildings. It was almost like a fairy-tale—and yet Abbie was starting to feel as if she was in the middle of a horror story!

‘I believe so,’ she answered slowly, watching Jarrett warily, but also aware that Tim, her dark-haired driver, was only feet away, seated behind the wheel of the car, if she should need his assistance. Which she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t. Being at the centre of a brawl, outside one of her own hotels, would not help in keeping the low-key existence she preferred to lead. ‘I have to go—’

‘You already said that,’ Jarrett rasped. ‘Several times, in fact.’ He looked past her to the parked, chauffeur-driven limousine, his expression instantly scornful. ‘He obviously has money,’ he drawled contemptuously.

Abbie frowned her bewilderment at the comment, starting to wonder if perhaps champagne didn’t agree with this man; he had seemed relatively comprehensible—too much so with regard to his opinion of women!—before he had drunk it. ‘Who does?’ she prompted dazedly.