A Suspicious Proposal

‘How old are you, Janice?’

There was a note to his voice now she couldn’t quite place and it made her tilt her face to his again. ‘You mean the family grapevine hasn’t dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s?’ she asked lightly. ‘I would have thought you’d have been given the low-down, on both sides, to the last tiny detail.’

His eyes crinkled and her stomach flipped, and this time it was nothing to do with the crab and prawn cocktail. ‘Family gossip is the worst thing,’ he agreed softly.

‘Isn’t it just?’ She dimpled up at him, batting her eyelashes in true Hollywood style. ‘But thorough.’

‘You’re twenty years old, unattached, and determined to branch out into the precarious world of entertainment—their opinion, not mine,’ he added hastily.

‘That’s what they told you about little old Janice Beaver?’ Essie asked teasingly.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Then I guess I can’t argue with it.’

He nodded slowly. ‘How old do you think I am?’ he asked after a long moment.

Oh, help. Essie kept her face fixed in its come-hither mode as her mind sought a throwaway line to finish what had become a minefield and came up empty. ‘I don’t know; thirty, thirty-one maybe?’ she suggested with a winsome smile. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties, but that wouldn’t win her any prizes in this sweepstake.

‘You’re being kind.’ He grinned down at her and again her body responded with frightening immediacy to the lethal male charm that was becoming stronger every second she was with him. ‘I’m thirty-three,’ he said softly, ‘but I know I look a good few years older.’

She couldn’t think of a thing to say, so she batted her eyelashes again for good measure and shrugged offhandedly. ‘I’m not into this age thing.’ She wrinkled her small nose at him provocatively. ‘Toy-boys, toy-girls, sugar-daddies and all that—so what? It’s just society putting labels on people when all’s said and done, don’t you think?’ And then, as the somewhat sombre waltz changed to a pop number and disco lights began to flash, she added, ‘Prepare your ears for blasting. Christine gave in to the first three dances being formal but the rest of the music is her and Charlie’s choice and they’re into soul and rock and roll.’

‘Great. Time for a drink, I think.’ As the hard male body straightened away from her, she was shocked at the sudden sense of loss she felt, but then he was guiding her towards the bar and, to her horror, she saw Charlie’s brother and his wife and in-laws in a little group directly in front of them. It was too soon to blow her cover!

‘I’ll wait here.’ She ducked into a small alcove, but not before he had followed her eyes.

‘Right.’ The warmth had gone from his voice and now his eyes were blue ice. ‘Went a bit too far, did you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ She stared at him, utterly at a loss.

‘With Edward.’ He indicated Charlie’s brother with a wave of his hand. ‘I noticed you two were getting on rather well during the meal. Wife objected, did she?’

‘What?’ She didn’t believe this man; she really didn’t. First he had her typecast as a fluffy little coquette without a brain in her head and now she was a would-be husband-stealer, too! The man was obsessed. She knew she’d gone scarlet—temper always affected her that way—but just as she opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of him a portly matron—a vision in bright pink and mauve—descended on them. Her red-painted mouth was already gushing how absolutely wonderful it was to see him, she’d heard so much about him, and hadn’t it been a positively divine service?

Xavier was polite, just about, but his voice was cool with a satirical bite and the woman didn’t linger. Nevertheless, it gave Essie a few precious moments to gather her wits and take control of her tongue. He’d pay for that last remark. Not yet, no—she’d take this as far as it could go—but it would make the moment he found out he’d been made a prize fool of all the more precious. What gave him the right to set himself up as judge and jury on other people, anyway? she thought tightly as she watched him make his way to the bar after he had asked her what she would like to drink. She had thought of asking for a double brandy or something similar—to fit the image—but, just in case he took her at her word, she hadn’t dared. Her delicate stomach couldn’t cope with anything stronger than tonic water.

By the time he returned, Essie was fully into the part she was playing again. As they sat down at a vacant table, she set to with gusto, regaling him with a few of the anecdotes Janice had told them last night about her life at college—and out of it—especially the more outrageous bits. Janice had had no compunction in revealing she was no vestal virgin, and now, as Essie related the other girl’s stories, she had the added advantage of authenticity.

And yet she wasn’t getting quite the reaction she had expected, she admitted to herself after some time had passed. He ought to be congratulating himself that he was on to a good thing, but if he was he was hiding it well, she thought caustically. The air of disapproval was stronger now, if anything.

‘You’ll burn yourself out if you’re not careful.’ His voice was abrupt after she had giggled her way through Janice’s antics at the college Christmas party, which were definitely X-rated.

Funnily enough, it was exactly what she herself had said to Janice the night before, and now she gave the answer Janice had given her in the same flippant tone the other girl had used. ‘Life’s for living and I want to get the most I can out of mine.’

‘I think you’ve made that very clear,’ he said grimly.

‘And you?’ She leant forward now, just close enough so her perfume—a wildly expensive one that Christine and Charlie had given her and Janice to thank them for being bridesmaids—tickled his senses and the soft silk of her hair brushed his face for a moment. ‘What about you?’ she asked softly. ‘Don’t you believe in having a good time?’

‘Oh, yes, Janice. I believe in having a good time,’ he said with a sudden silky dangerousness that caused the alarm bells to start ringing.

She was out of her league here. A tiny voice in Essie’s head shouted the warning. She had been playing with fire, and, if she wasn’t very careful, she might well get burnt. A little shiver of something hot—fear, excitement, desire? She wasn’t sure—flickered down her spine, igniting something deep in the core of her.

‘There you are, then,’ she said huskily, and the throatiness wasn’t at all feigned. Janice had been right when she’d said Xavier Grey had something, and that something was lethal. Call it sheer old-fashioned sex appeal or animal magnetism or whatever—he had it all right. And he knew how to use it when he wanted to, Essie thought weakly. One minute the cool, aloof ice-man, the next a seductive, fascinating charmer with more pulling power than a hundred icons of the silver screen.

‘Look, I’m going to have to circulate for a while.’ She stood up abruptly and she wouldn’t admit to herself it was due to panic. ‘We’ve been talking for nearly an hour and as—’ she nearly said ‘chief bridesmaid’ and checked herself just in time, in case he’d been told that job was Essie’s ‘—a bridesmaid there are certain duties expected of me.’

‘Of course.’ He had risen to his feet with her and now he nodded, his manner easy. ‘Just one thing…’

‘Yes?’ He had paused and now Essie looked up at him enquiringly. ‘What is it?’

‘Come back to me.’ His voice was deep and low and the heat inside her burnt stronger. Which was ridiculous, just plain ridiculous, she told herself feverishly, hearing her voice make some light reply even as her mind worked quite separately. He was an experienced man of the world, a powerful, rich bachelor who was used to women lining up for him, and an encounter like this would mean nothing to him.

And what was this encounter, anyway? she asked herself with a touch of hidden hysteria as she walked across the room to where Janice was sitting—with characteristic abandonment—with her shoes off and her feet resting on another chair. It was a fabrication, an illusion.

‘I see you’ve made a conquest.’ Janice’s voice was utterly without malice as she glanced up at the slim, beautiful girl in front of her. ‘He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all day.’

‘No.’ Essie looked down at the other girl and came to an instant decision, plumping down beside her and leaning forward conspiratorially. ‘Actually, Jan, it isn’t as straightforward as it looks.’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Me and Xavier Grey. He thinks I’m you,’ Essie said quietly.

‘What?’ Janice jerked her feet to the floor. ‘How on earth did he come to think that?’ she asked in bewilderment. ‘And why haven’t you told him who you really are?’

‘Well, it was like this…’ As Essie began to explain, Janice’s eyes began to twinkle, and by the time she had finished, the other girl was giggling unrestrainedly.

‘Serves him right.’ She glanced across the room and then back to Essie. ‘And it’s pretty insulting to me, too, if you think about it. I might not be God’s gift to the male sex, but I can still get the odd fella’s juices going, I can tell you.’

‘I don’t doubt it for a minute.’ Essie grinned back, and then, as their gazes met and held, both girls collapsed into helpless laughter.

‘So when are you going to tell him?’ Janice asked, once they had composed themselves.

‘I don’t know.’ Essie shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘When I’m tumbled, I suppose; someone is bound to drop me in it eventually.’

‘Talking of tumbling…’ Janice’s face was suddenly serious as she looked into the deep violet-blue eyes in front of her. ‘He’s got a bit of a reputation, Essie, so watch yourself. He’s the original cool love-’em-and-leave-’em type; never gets involved and plays strictly by his own rules. According to Aunt June, he has women throwing themselves at him all the time; but as soon as it looks like getting serious it’s curtains. He’s not a man to mess with.’

‘I don’t intend to mess with him, Jan, not in that sense, anyway,’ Essie said firmly. ‘He’s arrogant and rude and overbearing—’

‘And gorgeous.’ Janice’s voice was full of laughter now. ‘You have to admit that, Essie, even if you don’t like him. He’s totally drop-dead gorgeous. That mixture of cool control and ruthlessness is dynamite and, when added to his looks and the fact that he’s absolutely loaded…what an aphrodisiac!’

‘Jan, you’re awful.’ Essie pushed at the other girl’s arm but she couldn’t help laughing. Janice was one on her own, a real original, and she was warm and funny and kind. In the short time she had known her, Essie had found she liked Christine’s cousin very much. And Janice was quite right—it was every bit as insulting for Xavier to label Janice as it was for him to label her, Essie thought militantly. Janice might not look like Marilyn Monroe but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make it in the theatre, or that she didn’t have plenty to offer a man.

The two girls did a duty tour of some of the guests before making their way to Christine and Charlie’s side as the time approached for the bridal couple to get changed. The reception was due to finish at seven o’clock and Christine and Charlie were catching a train to London, where they were staying overnight before flying to Greece for two weeks.

Christine had brought her suitcase to the hotel and now, as Essie and Janice helped the other girl change in the little room the hotel had provided, there were plenty of giggles and fun. And then Christine was ready, looking lovely in a pale blue stretch-silk dress with a white cotton jacket, and the next few minutes were full of goodbyes and confetti and tears from both the mothers as the newly-weds departed in their taxi.

And all the time, through every moment that had elapsed since she had left Xavier’s side, Essie was conscious of a tall, dark figure dominating her thoughts and keeping the host of butterflies in her stomach dancing madly.