Falling For His Proper Mistress (9 page)

He put his hand on her leg.

“Hey.”

He took it off. This time he sighed loudly.

With no choice he focused on the screen, conscious of every move of her hand as she scribbled the occasional note.

The room grew darker. There were a couple of clips of interviews and Avery put her pad and pencil down on the coffee table. “Seen enough?”

She shook her head. “I want to watch it all.”

Guy's thoughts wandered. He'd seen parts of the presentation countless times. He was tempted to flick it forward, speed it up.

Dammit, he'd had enough of work.

He ached to kiss Avery. It had been too long. When her head brushed his shoulder, his pulse surged and he slung an arm around her. She rewarded him by snuggling up against him. Guy couldn't wait for the program to finish.

Her breathing grew more regular. Guy peered down at her through the dim light, and suppressed a groan.

Avery had fallen asleep!

She looked so young, so innocent, with her dark lashes falling against smooth cheeks. Guy stroked the feathery bangs off her face with gentle fingers. She stirred, and he stilled, but instead of waking she only burrowed closer.

Emotion bolted through him, fierce and primitive and defying him to put a name to it.

With one hand he pressed the remote and the screen went black. Scooping Avery up into his arms, he rose and headed for his bedroom. Muted light spilled from the bedside lamp. There, surrounded by the burgundy and muted gold décor,
he laid her down and gently arranged the covers over her, before shedding his shirt, dropping his jeans and lowering himself beside her.

Instantly she curled into him.

The spontaneity of the gesture pierced his heart. Guy gathered her close, and closed his eyes. Nuzzling at the soft fluff of her hair he was conscious of a welcome sense of contentment seeping through him.

This time he wasn't going to let her go.

 

She woke in an unfamiliar room.

Avery blinked against the shaded glow of the bedside lamp. Shifting, she became aware of the warmth of a body in the bed beside her. Guy! They'd been in the sitting room of his suite, she'd felt replete and pleasantly tired. Then nothing…

They hadn't made love. She would've remembered that.

Her body was curved into Guy's spoon-fashion, her legs tangled with his. She suspected his were bare—unlike hers that were still clad in jeans.

At least he hadn't undressed her.

He'd retained that much decency.

Nor had he made love to her.

Okay, so what did that prove? Only that Guy wasn't a necrophiliac. She stifled a giggle and eased herself away from him. He groaned and rolled onto his back.

Avery slipped quickly out the king-size bed, her bare feet sinking into thick carpet. Guy's arm was flung out above his head, his dark hair mussed. In sleep he looked younger, carefree, more like the Guy she'd met…what?…could it be only ten weeks ago now? She couldn't remember what her life had been like before Guy.

A sigh escaped. Once the Food and Wine Gala ended, so would her time with Guy.

For a moment she contemplated diving back into the soft, welcoming bed and cozying up to him. They could make love. Add another treasured memory to the trove in her heart to take away with her when she left. Then she squared her shoulders.

She wasn't going to spend the night with Guy…and have the world know about it. She wasn't going to become his lover—at least not until he began to trust her. Really trust her.

Far better to sneak out like a thief in the night now than to face that humiliation in the morning when the staff came on duty.

Swinging about, Avery headed into the darkened sitting room to find her shoes, her notebook and her tote, before she risked her self-respect.

 

Guy stirred, and reached out an arm…only to discover an expanse of smooth sheet. An empty expanse. His eyes shot open, and he rolled over.

The bed was cool, no residue of body warmth lingered. The only signs that Avery had been there were the slight indent on the pillow beside him and the lingering scent of her perfume.

Despite Avery saying that she would not move into his suite, Guy had comfortably expected to be able to change her mind last night—once he got her there. He hadn't banked on her falling asleep, but he'd certainly expected her to still be in his bed when he wakened. Hell, he'd been arrogantly sure that he could persuade her to stay.

Her absence was a significant shock.

He'd planned to convince her that her scruples were insignificant, to pull her into his arms and make love again…and again in the shower…as they had for those two passionate weeks in New York.

Not to awaken to this void of emptiness.

Nothing was going the way he'd planned. In the past two months his life had been turned upside down. What with Avery's betrayal, Jeff's weakness in the face of temptation, his father's death, the discovery that he had a half sister he'd never known…his world had gone crazy.

For the first time in his life, he didn't have the answers. He'd expected to hate Erica, to be able to forgive Jeff, to cope easily with his father's loss—after all it had been years since they'd spent time together. Most of all he'd been certain of his ability to persuade Avery to resuscitate their smoldering affair, until he grew bored.

But Avery had changed….

And so had everything else around him.

A
very stood behind the presenter's podium in the grand marquee waiting with some trepidation for Guy to join her. She took a sip of water and pretended to scan the notes she'd typed up on her laptop in the hours before dawn, when she should've been fast asleep.

It was not the prospect of facing a crowd that was responsible for her trepidation, only the thought of seeing one man.
Guy.
She'd sneaked out like a thief in the night. And paid the price by her inability to doze.

No doubt he'd slept like a baby.

When she caught sight of him coming her way, her heart did a somersault.

He was wearing dark trousers ironed to a knife-edge, and a white shirt that hung out giving him a rakish look. There was a faint line of stubble on his jaw that should have made him look untidy, but only made him more irresistible.

His gaze caught hers, and for a moment they both stilled,
then he gave her a faint smile. It widened, full of charm and promises. Empty promises…

Avery glanced away as he wound toward her side, checking around to see if anyone else had noticed that moment of jolting awareness between them.

No one sitting in the rows of seats appeared remotely interested.

She relaxed a little.

“You ran out on me.”

The whisper as he placed a laptop on the podium beside her notes caused Avery to shudder.

“Hush!” She slanted him a frown. Then ruined it by adding, “You looked like a baby, all innocence and eyelashes.”

A flush stained his cheekbones. “I can assure you, I didn't feel nearly as innocent as a baby when I woke up this morning….”

The loaded words caused a rush of heat. For a moment she half wished she'd given in to the reckless temptation to stay in his bed all night long. For sure she would've slept better in his arms than she had alone. She'd missed him from the moment she'd left.

Avery had a sinking feeling that she was about to cave to his demands. She reminded herself she simply wasn't the kind of woman who could sleep with a man without an emotional connection. And tried to convince herself that her hurt and anger at Guy had broken the emotional connection that had bound her to him.

She could never do pleasure for pleasure's sake.

Yet she knew she lied to herself. Because Guy still drew her like a moth to flame. God. How could she feel something so self-destructive about a man who felt nothing for her?

“…only to find that you'd gone.”

His murmur was so low she barely heard it, but it was enough to make her stiffen her spine. He might not love
her, and she might feel a lot more for him than she wanted, but she couldn't afford to forget that he only wanted her for sex—however much he wrapped it up in pretty words.

“Guy, stop it! This is my career, it's important to me.”

She couldn't afford to compromise her career, her own professionalism for a relationship that was headed nowhere. She had to make him understand that.

“Yes,” he said impatiently. “I accept that.”

“Good.”

But was this what she really wanted?

There would be no more nights of illicit passion. It would all be over. She would be well on her way to getting him out of her system—out of her life. She would never be the butt of a host of insinuations about a little gold digger sleeping with the boss.

It was all for the best.

She had to stick to her guns…and not cave in to his demands or her desires. Those would only cause her harm—even though the hold Guy had on her heart would make it all too easy to assent.

 

By contrast their second presentation five days later was all business.

Yet it belied the fact that Avery and Guy had fallen into a routine since the night she'd fallen asleep in his suite. Each day they would spend several hours going through recipes Guy wanted to add to the menus and seeking the perfect wine and beverage match. Avery also spent a couple of hours each day reviewing and training the restaurant and bar staff. In the evening, she and Guy would order in room service to Guy's suite and analyze the day's progress. There was a delicious domesticity about their relationship, and Avery stored up every memory.

After their speech, a trio of foodies came up to talk to Guy,
and Louis, the French chef from Chagall's, told Avery that they'd done a great job. Then Trevor and Gavin were both there adding to the crowd.

Trevor took her hand and shook it. “Good job. You had me wanting to visit some of those California vineyards you mentioned.”

“Thanks,” she smiled at him when he dropped her hand. “Start with El Dorado, it's a winery I know very well—I grew up there.”

Erica arrived with Christian, and the talk quickly turned to the December wedding they were planning.

“I thought we could serve champagne cocktails to the guests as they arrive. What do you think, Avery?” Erica asked.

“You could add a hint of cassis.”

“Christian suggested I talk to you, Trevor, about where to hold the service since you live here.”

“Hey, I'm a freewheeling bachelor. What do I know about weddings?”

Everyone laughed at the expression of mock horror on Trevor's face.

“But as president of marketing you're the perfect person to ask,” Erica retorted. “Besides, apart from Christian, you're the only one who actually lives in Aspen.”

Trevor spread his hands. “Of course I'll help. Hmm, your wedding will be in December, why don't you have Blake and Guy dress up as twin Santas?” Trevor suggested with a twinkle in his eye.

“I heard that,” said Guy from the other side of the trio he was talking to.

Erica laughed. “They'd both need big white fluffy beards. I've gotten to know a few of the local vendors, I'm sure Dorothy from the yarn shop could organize something.”

“Forget it,” ordered Guy. And everyone laughed again.

“On a serious note, Christian and I will be using as many locals as we possibly can to help us prepare.”

Guy had been watching Erica, but at this he broke in. “They'd like that. It's a good idea to include them—and it will have the bonus of garnering a lot of goodwill for Jarrod Ridge. Although I know that's not your primary motive for including the locals in the celebration.”

Erica beamed at him, and Avery's heart turned to marshmallow. Any resentment that Guy might once have harbored toward his half sister had clearly been set to rest.

Discussion continued about the wedding for a few minutes more before Avery excused herself. As she walked away, she was aware of more than one pair of eyes on her retreating back.

 

“That woman is good-looking,” Louis commented as Avery sauntered away.

Guy groaned, attracting Christian's sharp gaze. “You don't think so, Guy? Or is it just that you've been too busy to notice?”

Hell.
“How could I not notice?” he retorted in response to his future brother-in-law's sly observation.

“Ah, so you have noticed.” Christian's eyes crinkled with laughter. “What do you intend to do about it?”

Mentally Guy crossed his fingers. “Nothing.”

“Then you're a fool,” Trevor entered the discussion. “A sommelier and a restaurateur has to be a match made in the industry heaven.”

“Now you're starting to sound like Dad. Who said I want to always be talking work to my lover?” Guy protested.

“At least you'd be doing something you love—think of me stuck here, torn away from everything I've achieved over the past decade.” Gavin sounded utterly frustrated. “What was
Dad thinking setting his will up in such a fashion? I feel like I'm being buried alive.”

“And think about how much you and Avery would have in common.” Erica added her weight to the argument after a short pause.

Guy felt under siege. He could hardly disclose the one thing that would stop his family from matchmaking him with Avery. Once they knew that she'd cheated on him, they'd close ranks against her. But he'd never admit what a fool he'd been. “Just as well Blake has gone back to New York, otherwise you'd be canvassing him for an opinion, too.”

“We can still ask Melissa,” Erica grinned at him, an infectious smile that had Guy wanting to smile back.

“I haven't seen her all morning,” Guy said as he thought about his sister. In fact he'd barely seen much of her all week, and when he had she'd been much more quiet than usual.

“She's probably run off her feet at the spa,” Erica said, ever practical.

“She wasn't there when I went to the gym earlier,” said Christian.

“She'll turn up.” Guy raised an eyebrow. “Then you can start matchmaking her with some man—so start looking for someone suitable.”

They all laughed, and to Guy's great relief talk turned away from Avery and back to Erica and Christian's Christmas wedding.

It was late afternoon before he caught up with Avery again.

“I wanted to talk to you more about the brief for the restaurants,” Guy said to her as they walked up the pathway lined with a profusion of colorful flowers on the way back to Jarrod Manor.

“We can talk later.”

He got the feeling she was about to disappear again. “Tonight. Come up when you're done.”

“Let's meet in the sky lounge,” she said quickly, “I'm still working on adding some more variety to the beer list for the Christmas season.”

Didn't she know that anyone seeing him with her would be unable to miss the attraction she held for him? Even his family had noticed. “Maybe it would be a better idea to go check out some of the competition—we'll go to town, hit the bars and restaurants.”

Avery's eyes lit up. “That sounds like fun.”

Guy thought so too, and that way he wouldn't have to be so on his guard against his family's well-meant teasing. Nor would he have to disillusion them about what kind of person Avery really was. Although it was getting harder and harder for him to remember that himself…

She truly had bewitched him.

 

Avery decided she could easily fall in love with Aspen. Main Street was buzzing with activity. Pickups, Porsches and even a lovingly restored old Cadillac filled the lanes. And the stores—there was everything from Gucci to Macy's and burgers to up-market restaurants that the rich and famous were known to frequent.

Guy parked the SUV and Avery emerged from the passenger door to stare around like a wide-eyed child in a candy store. Couples strolled along the sidewalk, people spilled out of restaurants, families bundled together. Guy came round to her side. Avery scarcely noticed when he threaded his fingers through hers.

He pointed to a sign ahead. “There's the first bar where I thought we might conduct some covert espionage.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Maybe I can get some business from them, too.” It was a thought. That way, if things
were going well between Guy and her perhaps she could stay longer than the month they'd agreed….

God! What was she contemplating?

“Not until you've completed your contract with Jarrod Ridge.” He gave her a mock frown. “I'll have to get that signed and sealed as soon as we get back.”

She gave a gurgle of laughter.

The next second she was spinning into his arms. His lips slanted across hers. Avery's laughter dried up. For a moment she responded, then she pulled away, and shook her hand free of his.

Oh, my, she was even holding hands with Guy.

To cover her confusion, she said, “Oh, an art gallery. Let's have a look.” At that point even an abattoir would've elicited a squeal of delight. Anything to escape the confusion of being thoroughly and publicly kissed in the midst of Aspen's main street by Guy Jarrod.

“We're almost at the bar.”

“I want to have a look.” She needed a moment to regain her composure. “You can wait outside if you want. I won't be long.” She dived through the door into the gallery, grateful for the respite. There was a row of touristy watercolor paintings of the town, and the gallery keeper was securing a round, red Sold sticker to one of them. Avery walked quickly past.

To the right was an alcove—it would've been a misnomer to call it a room. On the far white wall, plumb in the center, hung one canvas.

Avery stopped dead.

The power of that single painting sucked the breath out of her lungs with its sheer poignant beauty.

It was a while before she became aware of Guy standing silently beside her.

“Isn't this piece amazing?”

“Amazing.”

There was a peculiar note in his voice. Avery glanced at him, a little resentful that he didn't share her enthusiastic admiration. His face was taut…pale.

“Guy?” Concern gripped her. “What's the matter?”

“I'll wait for you outside, okay?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away, his shoulders hunched as he headed for the door as though he couldn't get out fast enough.

What had evoked such a response? Was he annoyed because she'd pulled out of his too-public embrace? Or did his reaction have something to do with the gallery? She glanced back at the painting she'd been admiring when he'd come up beside her.

The painting was riveting. But disturbing enough to arouse such a strong reaction in Guy? Avery studied what should've been a peaceful subject. Perhaps. It was an abstract of a river. A swollen, moving river. There was turbulence in the dark, raging colors and the brush strokes. It was full of raw power…and anger. She couldn't take her eyes off it.

“It's compelling, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Avery didn't glance up as the gallery keeper came up beside her. She was still trying to fathom what it was about the painting that aroused such strong emotions.

“Margaret Jarrod loved to paint the Roaring Fork—but this is one of her last works of the river.”

Now Avery looked at him. “Margaret Jarrod?”