Velvet Promise

The expected protest was quickly forthcoming, but Willow soon calmed Dani down as she began to read her favourite story about a rather naughty bear. Unusually for Dani, she fell asleep halfway through the book, and Willow instantly felt a prick of guilt for having to keep her up so late after travelling today too. But Dani had napped at lunchtime before their flight, another unusual occurence for her, and so Willow had allowed the indulgence of the late night. And been soundly criticised for doing so! But criticism from Russell’s family was nothing new.

‘Still think it was a good idea to choose Jersey for your third shop?’ Barbara looked at her concernedly as she returned to the lounge.

She grimaced. When the time came for a third outlet for her designs the natural choice had been Paris, but after careful consideration she had decided it was too obvious, and the feasibility report she had received on Jersey had been much more promising: a lot of wealthy residents, and yet only fourteen miles from France itself. She had decided it was time to bury her ghosts, but she hadn’t realised at the time how difficult that was going to be!

‘I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated firmly. ‘Jersey was the perfect choice.’

‘The Stewarts seem to think so to,’ the other woman drawled pointedly.

Barbara was as much of a friend to her as she was to Dani, had been told from the first of her connection with the wealthy and influential Stewart family. ‘Then I’ll just have to disabuse them of that fact, won’t I?’ Willow said determinedly, once again picking up her bag. She smiled faintly. ‘I don’t have to ask you to listen out for Dani…?’

‘No,’ Barbara smiled; the two women were in perfect accord concerning Dani’s welfare.

Willow paused after stepping from the hotel to watch Jordan unobserved for several moments. Several tables and chairs had been placed in front of the hotel to overlook the bay, but Jordan had forgone the comfort of them to stand by the wall that fronted the hotel, his eyes narrowed as he stared out to sea, ocassionally sipping from the glass he held in his hand, his expression grim. He looked even more forbidding in the moonlight, big and dark, and infinitely powerful.

He slowly began to turn, as if sensing her gaze on him, and Willow instantly moved forward lightly, unwilling to be caught staring at him.

‘Too?’ he prompted abruptly.

She frowned her puzzlement, accepting the dry Martini and lemonade the waitress brought out to her, obviously at Jordan’s request; it was her usual after-dinner drink. She was surprised he had remembered so unimportant a thing.

‘Sorry?’ She prompted an explanation to his question as soon as they were alone again.

‘Dani asked earlier if you were ill too,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘Is she ill?’

Her brow cleared. ‘Barbara had a migraine from the flight,’ she explained. ‘I thought it would be better if Dani and I had dinner downstairs together so that Barbara could sleep it off. It obviously worked.’ Too late she realised she had excused Dani being in the dining-room with her that late at night after all.

Jordan’s mouth twisted as he seemed to sense her resentment at the admission. ‘She’s feeling better now?’ he drawled.

‘Much,’ Willow bit out, her hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. ‘I believe you had some more things you wanted to discuss with me?’ she pressed tautly, wanting this conversation over as soon a possible. And not just because she was tired.

‘The same things,’ he returned harshly. ‘Do you realise the embarrassment you’re causing Simone and David by choosing to stay at a hotel instead of with them at their home?’

Her head went back in challenge, the delicacy of her features clearly etched; wide green eyes, a small uptilting nose, her mouth at odds with those fine features, full and provocatively pouting. ‘Dani may be their granddaughter, but I’m not related to them at all,’ she rasped. ‘And I have no intention of letting Dani go to stay anywhere without me.’

‘You’re their daughter-in-law!’ Jordan’s eyes glittered in the darkness.

‘Ex-daughter-in-law,’ she corrected tautly. ‘I’m sure my staying here at the hotel can’t be any more of an embarrassment to them than actually having me to stay with them! They never approved of me as Russell’s wife and I have no intention of putting Dani or myself through the trauma of being a “guest” in their home!’

‘You never gave them a chance——’

‘They never gave me a chance!’ Her eyes flashed in warning. ‘Who do you think was the more vulnerable, the wealthy Stewarts or the young girl who married their only son?’

‘Simone was upset with the speed with which the wedding took place——’

‘So was I!’ She was so tense, a strong wind could have snapped her in half, her breathing ragged. ‘But little things like pregnancy have a way of showing themselves the longer you wait!’

Jordan’s mouth thinned. ‘You got your wealthy husband, didn’t you?’

Willow stopped breathing at the accusation. Oh yes, she had got herself a wealthy husband, the rich and elusive Russell Stewart, who had decided he wanted her as his wife. But she had been three months pregnant with his child at their hastily arranged marriage in a London register office, and neither Simone Stewart nor any of her equally snobbish friends had ever let her forget the fact.

She drew in a controlling breath. ‘I don’t think the two of us resorting to insults is going to help ease the awkwardness of this situation,’ she told him with a calmness she didn’t feel.

‘I didn’t realise I was being insulting,’ Jordan rasped. ‘I thought I was just stating the facts as they happened to be.’

This man knew what he was doing one hundred per cent of the time, facts or no facts, and he knew he had been insulting her just now. And it was true, she had married a wealthy man, and her pregnancy had been the reason for the hasty marrriage. But Jordan was wrong if he thought she had trapped Russell into that marriage; he had trapped her.

‘Only as you know them,’ she said quietly.

‘As they were,’ Jordan hit out harshly. ‘Russell was devastated when you left him and took Dani with you. The divorce almost finished him completely.’

She was well aware of Russell’s feelings. Just as she was aware of her own. And her only emotion at the time of the divorce had been relief—and freedom. ‘I didn’t come to Jersey to discuss the past—’

‘Why did you come back here?’ His eyes were dark velvet.

‘As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated calmly, ‘and this trip will combine business and Dani’s visit to her grandparents.’

‘I take it you will be attending this visit with her?’ he drawled.

She gave him a sharply searching look. ‘Of course. Is there some objection to that?’

‘None at all,’ he returned smoothly. ‘How long do you intend staying on the island?’

Her mouth twisted at the bluntness of the question. ‘Are you part of the same security that requires all visitors to the island to sign a police register when you book into the hotel?’ she taunted.

‘No.’ His harsh tone told her he was far from amused. ‘But you must have some idea how long you intend staying.’

Willow frowned. ‘I’d planned to stay until Thursday,’ she told him somewhat warily; what did it matter to him how long she stayed? ‘I have a fashion show to finish arranging for early next month.’

‘I see.’ Jordan put down his empty glass on the table, his expression thoughtful.

Willow eyed him suspiciously. He seemed uneasy about something, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like that something. ‘Jordan, what is it?’ she prompted nervously.

‘Has the island changed much since you were here last?’ he enquired lightly.

‘It’s as beautiful as ever,’ she dismissed tersely. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’ Because something definitely was!

He raised arrogant dark brows at the demand. ‘Nothing is wrong.’ He looked out along the bay. ‘It’s rare that I actually have the time to stand still long enough to take in the beauty of St Brelade’s Bay,’ he murmured softly. ‘I forget just how lovely it is here sometimes.’

As one of the numerous financial advisers on the island, Jordan was an extremely busy man, the island being a thriving financial centre with its enviable rate of tax and other benefits. And yet Willow wasn’t sidetracked by his observations at all, knowing he was keeping something from her.

‘You may as well tell me, Jordan,’ she prompted tautly. ‘If you don’t I’ll have to ask Simone,’ she added threateningly, knowing how all the men in the family were protective of the tiny woman who had somehow managed to conceal her steely heart and determined nature from them all.

His mouth tightened at the threat, his eyes narrowed. ‘You’re out of your league with me, Willow,’ he told her softly.

She didn’t so much as blink at his tone of menace, watching as a grudging respect for her entered his eyes. He could keep his damned respect; she just wanted some straight answers! ‘I mean it, Jordan,’ she challenged.

‘So do I,’ he rasped.