Read One Reckless Night Online
Authors: Sara Craven
'I want to drink a toast,' Susan Lantrell said softly.
'To all the people I love best in the world, gathered now around this table.' Her luminous smile touched each one in turn.
She turned to Zanna. 'It took a couple of years after Gordon bought Church House for me to pluck up the courage to go back there. But, when I did, I used to imagine that I would look out of the window one day and see you walking up the path towards me.'
'And then, when I did, you weren't there.' In her own ears Zanna's voice sounded over-bright. 'Instead there was only Jake, who thought I was a burglar casing the joint-or worse.'
'I don't believe I knew what to think.' Jake's hooded gaze met hers across the candlelit table. 'In many ways I still don't,' he added softly.
Zanna leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her glass to ease a suddenly dry mouth.
The food was delicious. A delicate seafood bisque was followed by a vegetable terrine, and then lamb cooked with garlic and rosemary was served with tiny peas and potatoes. A platter of cheeses was served on vine leaves, and finally, for dessert, an apricot tart with meltingly rich sweet pastry.
'I couldn't eat another thing,' Zanna laughingly declined as Madame Cordet urged her to another slice of tart. 'I've eaten enough for two already...'
Her voice halted abruptly as she realized what she'd said. A wave of color heated her face and she leaned back in her chair, glad of the shadowed privacy that the candlelight afforded, praying that her momentary glitch hadn't been noticed.
Susan was talking, happily oblivious to her daughter's confusion. 'Oh, I've got such plans, Susie. I can't wait to start showing you off to our friends.' She smiled at her husband. 'Darling-we'll give a party.'
'Great idea, honey. But maybe we should give Suzannah a chance to settle in-find her feet before we do any major entertaining.' He paused. 'After all, we've all the time in the world.'
Zanna touched the tip of her tongue to her dry lips. 'Not all that much time, actually,' she said quietly. 'It's wonderful to be here, of course, but I can't stay around for ever. I-I do have to earn my living.'
'Oh, but you will,' Susan said eagerly. 'We didn't get you here on completely false pretences. I really have been commissioned to write a book-a popular guide to the painters who've been inspired by the South of France.' She pulled a comical face. 'Nothing very erudite, or up-market, but it should be fun to do. And Solange has had to leave to look after her mother, so I do need secretarial back-up.' She spread her hands, smiling. 'And when she comes back I'm sure your business experience would be invaluable in the Lantrell Gallery network. So-all problems solved.'
Zanna cast a fleeting glance from under her lashes at Jake, but he too was leaning back in his chair, and his expression was unreadable.
'Well, not exactly,' she said carefully. 'I thought this was just a-a temporary post, so I've-committed myself elsewhere.'
'Going back to the rat-race, Suzannah?' Jake's voice goaded from the shadows.
'Not in the way you think,' Zanna retorted, improvising frantically. 'A girl I was at school with has set up a head-hunting company and she wants me to join her. There's the possibility of a partnership. It's just too good to turn down.'
There was a silence, then, 'Well, naturally you have to consider your career,' Susan acknowledged sadly.
'Although I'm very disappointed.' She paused. 'Just as long as this job doesn't take you too far away.'
Zanna pushed away her empty plate. 'I'm afraid it does.' She felt as if a fist had closed on her heart, twisting it. 'It's in Australia.'
She felt the shock tremor run round the table. Then, 'Which part?' Jake asked.
Zanna stiffened. Had Lantrell Galleries established an Australian base? If so, it was likely to be in Sydney or Melbourne, she thought, trying desperately to remember what Megan had said.
She lifted her chin. 'Brisbane,' she said.
'Well, that's about as far away as it's possible to get,' Jake agreed silkily. 'Except for Darwin.'
'Then we'll just have to make the most of the time we've got,' Susan said, clearly trying to speak bravely. 'What's your friend's name, darling?'
Zanna cast her mind swiftly back to her sixth form days. 'Caroline,' she said. 'Caroline Phillips.'
She was thankful when she could at last plead fatigue and get away to her room. She hadn't been granted an easy passage, she thought ruefully as she went upstairs. The cross-examination had been loving from her mother, shrewd and concerned from her new stepfather, and intense from both of them.
Jake, however, had asked nothing at all, his whole attention apparently concentrated on the cognac he'd been allowing to swirl gently in the bowl of his glass. She could have sworn he hadn't drunk one drop, and this, in some odd way, was more disturbing than any inquisition would have been.
Perhaps he realized that 'Check' had finally been called in this strange game they'd been playing.
And if he was secretly planning to keep tabs on her in Australia he'd be unlucky, she told herself, squaring her shoulders as she went into her room. By the time he realized she'd never gone to Brisbane she would be safely ensconced in the north of England, with the trail- hopefully-cold behind her.
She wanted to sleep. She wanted to close her eyes and blot out the hurt and disappointment in Susan Lantrell’s face. She wanted to lose in unconsciousness all the shocks and bewilderment of the past twenty-four hours, but sleep was elusive. She lay, staring into the sultry darkness, her mind on an endless treadmill, pursued by one image after another.
But it was Jake's image that predominated, in spite of her best efforts to banish him. She felt his teasing smile like a kiss on her starved lips, his dark gaze like a caress on her aching flesh.
So close, she thought painfully. And yet beyond her reach for ever. The lover of one night transformed into friend and even surrogate brother. Which was the last thing she wanted.
The thin coverlet was oppressive, twining round her limbs, anchoring her restless body to the bed. Moonlight, pouring through the shutters, lay in silver bars across the floor, reinforcing the impression that she was in a cage of her own making.
Feeling suddenly suffocated, Zanna freed herself, swinging her feet to the floor and reaching for her robe. Her mouth was dry, she thought. That was why she couldn't sleep. She was simply thirsty. She needed something cold to drink-fruit juice, or a mineral water.
Moving as quietly as possible, she let herself out of her room and padded downstairs.
The door to the salon was standing ajar, but she went past it without hesitation, finding her way to the big kitchen at the back of the house. Here, everything was calmness and order, she reflected almost wistfully, looking round her at the enormous dresser occupying the whole of one wall, the well-scrubbed table in the middle of the room, the array of polished pans and utensils, all bathed in the brightness of the moonlight.
She took a glass from the drying rack then opened the cavernous fridge and extracted a bottle of Evian water. She was struggling to remove the cap when the kitchen light suddenly went on.
She cried out in shock, catching her foot in her robe as she tried to turn, feeling the glass slip from her hand and smash to pieces on the flagged floor.
Jake said harshly, 'So it was you, creeping round in the dark. I thought it must be. That, or a ghost.'
'I-I'm very much alive. I just wanted a drink.' She stood, clutching the bottle against her as if it were a shield. 'I-I didn't mean to wake anyone.'
'I haven't been to bed.' He came to where she was standing, his hands firm on her waist as he lifted her clear of the broken glass in one swift, summary movement and deposited her on the edge of the table. 'Stay there while I clear up the mess.'
'I can manage-' she began, to be silenced by his derisive glance.
'And end up with glass in your foot? I don't want anything else to feel guilty about.'
She sat, mute, watching as he dealt quickly and deftly with the shards. He was still fully dressed, she saw, in the elegantly cut dark trousers he'd been wearing at dinner and the ivory silk shirt, open at the neck, cuffs turned back to reveal tanned forearms. For her part Zanna felt absurdly vulnerable in her thin robe, bare feet dangling.
'Thank you,' she said stiltedly, when he'd finished. 'I'd better take my drink back to my room. I don't want to cause any more problems.'
His brows lifted sardonically. 'You surprise me. Was it really the pangs of thirst keeping you awake, or your conscience?'
Zanna stiffened. 'What do you mean? It's never easy to sleep under a strange roof.'
'Or,' he said softly, 'in a strange bed.'
Zanna felt the color rise in her face, but she made herself meet the faint mockery in his eyes.
'Or that either,' she agreed equably, and slid off the table. 'Perhaps it would be safer if I looked for a paper cup.'
'I don't think you'll find one.' He paused. 'On the other hand,' he went on silkily, 'you could consider a different cure for insomnia.'
His smile widened as he heard her swift, betraying intake of breath.
'What are you talking about?' she demanded raggedly.
He shrugged. 'I was going to offer you a tisane. Madame Cordet uses them as a sovereign remedy for everything.'
'A tisane!’ she said uncertainly.
He nodded laconically. 'A herbal drink. Guaranteed to soothe troubled nerves. Not that you seem to suffer from them,' he added, his mouth twisting. 'Aren't you even the slightest bit concerned about the effect of your recent bombshell?'
She bit her lip. 'Of course I am. I regret it very much. But, under the circumstances, I had no choice. I could hardly let my mother start making plans for the future- imagining us all as one big happy family-when I knew it couldn't happen.'
'So, when did you actually arrive at this epoch-making decision?' His tone was casual as he filled the kettle and set it on the stove, but she wasn't fooled for a minute, all her warning systems in overdrive.
She said brightly, 'Oh, Caroline suggested I should join her ages ago, but I was still settled at Westcott Holdings at the time.'
'And now you've been allowed a second chance.' Jake sent her a meditative look. 'Not everyone's so fortunate.'
'I'm the lucky one all right,' she agreed, with terrible irony.
'And your good luck is Susan's misfortune.' He busied himself for a moment, collecting two glass beakers in attractive metal holders from a cupboard in the dresser. When he spoke again, his voice was cool and level. 'Would you be prepared to think again?'
Zanna was replacing the Evian water in the fridge. Her head turned sharply. 'I-I don't understand.'
'Yes, you do.' He was opening and closing a set of miniature drawers situated at one side of the dresser, choosing two small packets like teabags. 'I suspect that your sudden decision to go to-Darwin...?'
'Brisbane,' she supplied curtly.
'Could have been sparked off by my presence here.' Jake threw back his head in an oddly defenseless gesture. 'What I'm trying to say is-that doesn't have to be a problem for you. For either of us.'
Zanna's fingers twisted nervously in the skirts of her robe. 'You mean-you'd-go?'
He nodded. 'You don't have to disappear to the other side of the world-or anywhere-to get away from me.' There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. 'With a little forward planning, we should be able to avoid each other pretty well.'
She said slowly, 'Jake-I'm the outsider. I don't want to drive you out of your own home.'
'And I don't want to see a woman I love and respect breaking her heart because she's caught in the middle of our private war,' he returned brusquely. 'Agreed, it's not an ideal solution, but it could ease the situation.'
'Not,' she said, 'for your father. He has to be considered.'
'Dad's not a fool. He's already picked up on the fact there are tensions between us. I imagine you don't want him launching an enquiry into the causes?'