Beaumont Brides Collection (110 page)

‘Publicity takes time to get results and he hasn’t got time.’ He had no objection to discussing the situation. If Melanie was thoroughly convinced she would call Latham and tell him. When? She couldn’t use the phone in the cottage or the number would show up on the bill. After breakfast? From reception. Well, Gus would make a note of any numbers she called. ‘And advertising is expensive,’ he added, apparently as an afterthought.

‘I wasn’t talking about advertising. I meant the kind of publicity that money can’t buy. You just have to know the right people.’

How true. ‘Then we must assume he doesn’t know the right people. Whoever they are.’

‘But I do.’ Melanie stopped. About to explain that she knew just how to get The Ark into the papers, get people talking about it, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be a seriously out-of-work actress, incapable of helping herself, let alone anyone else. Jack was swift to remind her of that.

‘I think it would take more than a photograph of you topless on the beach to bring the fashionable hordes clamouring for room at the inn,’ he suggested, rather too complacent about the idea for Mel’s liking.

‘You haven’t seen me topless,’ she said, tartly, remembering Diana’s horrible remark. Well, she had doubtless deserved it. She said some pretty horrible things herself. She glanced out at the marina but there was no sign of Beau or Diana. Just the crew readying the yacht to move out.

‘No? Then who do you think put you to bed last night?’

Melanie turned and stared at Jack for a moment. Then she dismissed his inference as ridiculous. ‘I don’t need to think about it. I’m quite capable of putting myself to bed,’ she declared.

‘Last night? Are you sure?’ She regarded him sourly over the rim of her glass. ‘Do you actually remember?’

‘Of course I remember. Vividly.’ They’d had dinner, danced. Elbows, waists, even cheek to cheek she remembered, her face growing warm at the way she had clung to him, begged him to walk along the beach. Then…

Then? She frowned. Then what? She looked up and saw the way he was looking at her and she knew. ‘You didn’t!’ But even as the words left her mouth she knew it was the truth and she felt herself blush all over as he sat back and regarded her with an insolent grin. ‘How could you?’

‘It seemed a shame to spoil your pretty clothes. I’d hate you to get into trouble with their rightful owner.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘My underwear was my own.’

‘And very pretty, too. Although a touch on the expensive side for a cleaning lady I would have thought. I recall that Tom was rather taken with it, although I have to say that he would have been thoroughly disappointed with your taste in nightwear.’

‘My nightwear is none of his business. Or yours.’ She wanted to slap that self-satisfied grin right off his face. She gave a little gasp. What on earth was the matter with her this morning? It was as if there was some nasty little demon inside her. Besides, Jack would have stopped her before her hand made it half way across the table. But he was still grinning. ‘We seem to have strayed somewhat from the point,’ she said, tartly.

‘Have we? What point?’

‘The Ark. Shall I tell you something about it?’

He sighed. ‘Is there any way to stop you?’

‘No, Jack. But I think you should reconsider your plans. I have a feeling that this particular lamb isn’t quite ready to lie down on your barbecue.’

He didn’t exactly reel back. He merely looked bored with the whole subject. ‘None of them come willingly, Mel. But in the end it makes no difference.’

‘Never? Well of course I could be wrong. I just hate to see anyone who’s worked hard to make something special forced to hand it over to the fat cats.’ She smiled. ‘In this case for fat cat you can substitute lean wolf.’

‘Mr Jameson didn’t waste his time talking to you, did he? Maybe he’s heard all about your assets. Perhaps you should be careful he doesn’t try to charm them out of you,’ he warned, with the kind of smile a cat has when it’s just spotted the canary making a break for it.

‘Assets?’

‘You hadn’t forgotten your well-managed portfolio?’ he prompted. ‘You really must try and keep a track of your story or you’ll end up in all kinds of trouble.’

Story? Oh, good grief, her story. She laughed. At least she hoped he would think it was a laugh. It was more a little collapsed sort of noise that escaped from her as she remembered the way she had teased him over dinner the night before. She must have been mad. Without a doubt stark raving mad. Why else would she be here, playing all kinds of dangerous games with Jack Wolfe?

‘I won’t forget,’ she said.

‘It must be difficult,’ he continued, apparently enjoying a little retaliation for her remark about fat cats and lean wolves, ‘never knowing who has your best interests at heart and who is just after your money. Of course if you gave it to Gus Jameson it wouldn’t be trifled away by your fortune hunting lover.’ He raised one dark brow in a quizzical expression. ‘Would it?’

‘Oh, really!’ she exclaimed, heat flying to her cheeks as the whole of the previous evening’s conversation came back like an X-rated nightmare to haunt her. How much champagne had she drunk last night for heaven’s sake? She’d definitely be sticking to orange juice for the rest of this trip and as if to impress herself with the necessity, she took another sip from her glass.

‘Of course trifling might be more fun.’ He was openly laughing at her now.

‘Then what a pity you’re here on business, Jack,’ she said, as the exquisitely prepared Egg Benedict was laid before her.

‘Can I take it from that, Miss Devlin,’ he replied, his voice as slow and smooth as treacle pouring from a spoon, ‘that you’d be more than willing to trifle with me if it would save young Mr Jameson from ruin?’

Well, Melanie Devlin, you walked right into that one. It was definitely time to put a serious curb on her tongue. Time to change the subject.

‘Gosh, this does look good,’ she said, brightly, picking up her fork. But that didn’t work. She had to put it down again immediately, or betray how much her fingers were shaking. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had just been her fingers.

‘Well, Miss Devlin? Nothing more to say on the subject? Could it possibly be that it’s Mr Jameson’s lucky day?’ He didn’t wait for her response, which was just as well, she was utterly speechless. Apparently satisfied, he regarded his own breakfast. ‘You’re right, Cinderella,’ he said, ‘this does look very tempting. And swimming before breakfast certainly does something for the appetite.’

Swimming? She didn’t think swimming was responsible for the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. As she stared at her breakfast Melanie wished vehemently that she was back in a rain-soaked London gulping down a simple piece of toast before rushing off to scrub any number of floors.

She stirred. ‘I thought I might try snorkelling this morning.’

‘Is that what Mr Jameson suggested while you were cosied up together on that rock? Did he offer to teach you?’

‘Gus?’ She suddenly realized he thought she had been with Gus all that time, although why he should assume she was flirting... Was that why he had been so abrupt with the man? Could it be that he was just a tiny bit jealous? Of course not. Stupid thought.

‘Sadly, no. Perhaps he would have done if you hadn’t arrived just then.’

‘I’m sure he would. But it isn’t a problem, Mel, you have me. All day.’

‘I wouldn’t want to put you to any bother, Jack.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure you have far more interesting things to do than play nurse-maid to me.’

He smiled right back. He wasn’t planning on playing nurse-maid. Now doctors and nurses... ‘Why should it be a bother, darling? You’re doing me the most enormous favour. The very least I can do is ensure that you have a good time while you’re here.’

‘Oh, I intend to.’ As she began to eat her breakfast, something occurred to her. ‘Did you know that people come here by yacht?’

‘There wouldn’t be much point in spending a fortune building a marina if they didn’t,’ he pointed out.

‘No, I mean just to eat at this restaurant? Apparently it’s known all over the Caribbean.’

He frowned. ‘Gus told you this, did he?’

Not Gus, but somehow she didn’t think Jack would be amused if he knew her father was anchored just a few hundred feet away from where they were sitting. She glanced down at the marina and saw Beau standing on deck talking to one of the crew as they prepared to cast off. They were just going to sail away.

It was too late to make her peace. Or was it? If she ran ... She half rose ... ‘Mel?’ Jack was looking at her a little oddly. ‘Is everything all right.’ As she watched the yacht edged out in the creek. ‘Mel?’

‘Fine,’ she said, subsiding into her seat. She’d see them at her birthday party. It was only a few days. No problem. They’d laugh about it. Probably. She turned back to Jack. He too was staring at the departing yacht and to distract him she said, ‘It’s just, I thought, if the restaurant is so well-known, why is the hotel in trouble?’

Something inside Jack snapped. ‘You’re the bright one, Melanie, you tell me when you’ve come up with an answer.’ He pushed back his chair, tossed his napkin on the table as he stood up, abandoning his breakfast. ‘In the meantime I’ll go and organise the snorkelling gear. Just in case there’s a sudden rush.’

Startled by Jack’s sudden loss of temper, Melanie watched him stride off in the direction of reception. What on earth had she said?

Then she grinned. She had got to him. She’d really got to him. Could it be that he wasn’t quite the wolf he liked everyone to believe? She pulled herself together. If he wasn’t on the prowl what was he doing in a place like this with an unwilling girl he’d dragged along to give him cover?

Unwilling? And a wave of guilt unexpectedly overwhelmed her. She had called Jack unscrupulous, but what about her? She was aiding and abetting him simply by her presence.

It wasn’t as if she had had to come along with him.

She could undoubtedly have found some other way to help Paddy. And if the local authority had remained difficult about letting them have the old house they wanted as a base for their co-operative, they could surely have found somewhere else? Not quite so perfect, or convenient maybe, but she hadn’t even hesitated.

It had all seemed so neat that she hadn’t even questioned her own motives for agreeing to the deception.

She stared out at the clear bright sea. It was a question she had been avoiding ever since she had been faced with the choice. And it had been easy to avoid in the rush of getting her hair done, having a manicure, packing. Cancelling the milk and the papers.

All those desperately important things that George would have happily done for her if she had asked.

Now honesty compelled her to confront the situation, face up to the truth. She had accompanied Jack Wolfe to the West Indies for no other reason than because she had wanted to.

From the moment in his flat when he had fastened his fingers about her wrist to stop her from leaving and without even turning to look at her, had suggested it.

All right, so she had turned him down, walked out on him. But she had regretted it the minute the words were out of her mouth. And when he had given her a second chance to say yes, she hadn’t hesitated.

For a moment she held her breath half expecting the world to come crashing down about her ears. But nothing happened.

Right.

Okay.

So?

So anyone could understand the appeal of an opportunity to seize her moment of triumph, let him see that Cinderella had been the Princess all along.

She drew in a sharp breath. Stop kidding yourself, Mel. That was nothing. It hadn’t even worked for heaven’s sake. Not really. Oh, she’d given him a surprise, but not enough of a surprise to justify this. And she could have set it up any time she wanted.

This was truth time. She hadn’t wanted to show herself in her true colours because once she had, she would have burned her boats. No more visits to his apartment. No more possibilities of flirting with danger. No more Jack Wolfe.

Ever since she had crossed Jack’s path she had felt the attraction even as she recognised the danger. But she had kept on crossing it.

But was it the danger she was addicted to? Or Jack Wolfe.

Silly question. She had been standing in the path of a runaway truck for days, weeks, just waiting for it to run over her. Now she realized that at some point it had, so how come she hadn’t noticed?

How on earth could she have been so stupid!

Easily. It had been happening since the dawn of time. Except then it would have been a runaway woolly mammoth.

Well, it was too late to do anything about that. But falling in love didn’t have to make her an accessory to Jack’s business deal. She didn’t have to stand idly by and do nothing while he destroyed a young man’s dreams. Not when she could do something about it.

One phone call to a journalist who would fall over himself to betray the secret honeymoon destination of Edward Beaumont would provide Gus with all the instant free publicity he could handle.

Jack would be none the wiser, neither would Gus. And Beau and Diana’s yacht was already disappearing into the distance. They would be long gone before the news hit the streets, so it couldn’t possibly hurt them. It was perfect.