To Woo A Wife Read online

  He was a complex man; she must remember that. She also had to remember, despite what had been said earlier, that this man wanted something from her. He could be wry charming when he chose to be!

  'Is Tony coming with us this evening?' Jarrett asked casually—although Abbie could tell he would be far from happy if the other man did accompany them!

  She gave a smile. 'He's spending the evening at home, keeping an eye on Charlie.'

  Jarrett quirked dark brows. 'Does that mean I passed the security check?'

  'It means—' Abbie met his gaze tauntingly '—that Tony's spending the evening with Charlie.'

  'Ever the enigma, Abbie!' he stated.

  "Ever the opportunist, Jarrett,' she returned smoothly.

  He laughed, opening the door for her, the fact that he made no reply a statement in itself...!

  The restaurant he had chosen for them didn't just serve food; a small band was playing and there was a dance floor. Abbie looked longingly at the latter as they sat down at their table; it was years since she had danced. The last two years there hadn't been time, and Daniel hadn't been a man who liked to dance, or to let his wife dance with another man.

  'We can dance later, if you would like to.' Jarrett had obviously been watching her interest in the couples al­ready moving around the floor.

  She opened her mouth to say yes, she would love to— aid then she looked at the man she would be dancing with. Jarrett was tall and lithe, with an attraction she had responded to more than once, and if they danced to­gether he would no doubt hold her close against that litheness... Maybe dancing with Jarrett wasn't such a good idea!

  'I haven't danced for years,' she replied, pretending an interest in her menu that she didn't feel.

  Why should she feel so disappointed that she had de­cided not to dance? She hadn't really done what she wanted for years, so why should it matter now?

  'But you must be a natural,' Jarrett protested lightly. 'You move so gracefully, anyway,' he went on at her cautious expression. 'Besides, I chose this particular res­taurant for the very fact that we could dance together later on in the evening.'

  Abbie gave him a sharp glance, instantly wary. He had intended dancing with her all along, had chosen this restaurant for that very purpose. 'We'll see,' she told him enigmatically.

  Jarrett gave a relaxed smile. Tm not Charlie asking for a treat,' he teased. 'And I don't think dancing can be classed as manhandling,' he added dryly. 'Besides, what could I possibly do to you on a public dance floor?'

  Hold her. Touch her. Just those two things alone were enough to cause a shiver of awareness down her spine!

  'Shall we order?' she prompted as the waiter appeared dutifully at their table, Abbie anxious now to get tonight over and done with. The sooner they ate, the quicker she would be able to do that.

  'Drinks first,' Jarrett told her sociably. 'What will you have?'

  She ordered a sparkling mineral water, while Jarrett ordered a whisky for himself, determinedly returning to her menu once they were alone again.

  'You could be the one driving us home at this rate,' Jarrett commented a few minutes later after ordering a red wine to go with their meal.

  'What makes you think I can drive?' After all, he had never seen her do so.

  He smiled confidently. 'Abbie, you can do anything you want to do.'

  'I doubt that,' she replied, watching the people around them as they enjoyed themselves.

  It seemed so long since she had relaxed like this, ex­periencing an evening out where she didn't have to be something or someone she would rather not be. Although she knew Jarrett was probably the last man she should feel able to relax with, she couldn't help the sense of well-being mat was creeping over her. Jarrett made her feel cared for and protected, while at the same time not attempting to dominate her. A dangerous com­bination...

  'You seem to have charmed both my brothers,' Jarrett told her. "They both think you're wonderful, have done nothing but talk about you all afternoon,' he added mock-disgustedly.

  Remembering that mischievous pair, Abbie could quite believe him; Jonathan and Jordan would have en­joyed playing games with their older brother, had prob­ably had a hilarious afternoon—at Jarrett's expense!

  She arched dark brows. 'I'm surprised you managed to get out of the house without them!'

  'Give me credit for some sense, Abbie.' He shook his head. 'I live on my own. As do Jonathan and Jordan.'

  As an only child, Abbie had never known what it was like to have brothers and sisters, and she supposed, with all three men being in their thirties, that they were a little old still to be living in the same house. Probably working together, on a day-to-day basis, was more than enough. For all of them!

  'Do you have any family, Abbie?' Jarrett asked as he seemed partly to read her thoughts. 'Besides Charlie, that is.'

  She avoided the probing of his golden gaze. 'Not any more,' she answered evasively.

  'Not even parents?'

  'Not any more,' she repeated stiffly. Abbie's mother had died while she was still a young child—in fact Abbie barely remembered her—and her father had died three years ago, finally succumbing to cancer. Apart from Charlie, there was no one. And, in view of the twists and turns her life had taken over the years, that was probably for the best.

  'I couldn't interest you in a pair of spare brothers, could I?' Jarrett asked with soft derision.

  For a moment Abbie looked at him blankly, locked in memories of the past. And then, as Jarrett's words pen­etrated the vividness of those memories, she found her­self laughing. She didn't doubt that, at times, Jonathan and Jordan made his life pretty unbearable. They were probably what also made him human!

  'Not the two you're referring to, no,' she refused, laughing still.

  'In other words, I'm welcome to them, hmm?' he ac­cepted with humour.

  This evening wasn't turning out at all as she had ex­pected—she was actually enjoying herself! And, as the food arrived, and the conversation continued to flow easily, Abbie found herself relaxing totally.

  It had been too long since she had felt wanted and appreciated in a man's company, since she had responded to that warm admiration in a man's eyes. And the gold in Jarrett's eyes radiated such warmth...

  She was so relaxed, by the company and the wine, that by the time Jarrett asked her to dance at the end of their meal she didn't even hesitate, rising gracefully to her feet to move smoothly into his arms as they stepped onto the dance floor.

  Jarrett was a good dancer, fluid and rhythmic, with none of the awkwardness in moving to the music that some men felt. She should have known he would be good; Jarrett could do anything he wanted to do too, and not just well, but excellently!

  His hand was comfortable on her back, the fingers of his other hand intertwined with hers, Jarrett's hands long and tanned, Abbie's fingers pale and delicate in his grasp. He was as close as she had known he would be, their bodies fitting perfectly together as they moved in time to the music, Jarrett's aftershave male and subtle.

  Abbie swallowed hard as Jarrett gently rested his cheek against her temple, the warmth of his breath stir­ring her hair.

  She was having trouble breathing. And she felt hot So very hot. All over.

  She moistened dry lips. 'Jarrett—'

  'Abbie...!' His lips moved against her temple now, gently caressing, his own breathing shallow. 'God, Abbie!' he groaned unsteadily. 'You're more intoxicat­ing than any wine!'

  This—being in Jarrett's arms—was more intoxicating than wine! Or perhaps it was the wine making her tingle all over in this way. She didn't know; what she did know was that she never wanted this to end.

  She relaxed against him, her body curving more in­timately into his, feeling the hard contours of his body, the male strength of him, her arms entwining about the back of his neck as his arms moved possessively about her waist, any pretence they had previously given of dancing formally together completely obliterated.

  'I've wanted you
since the moment I first looked at you,' Jarrett groaned against her earlobe, nibbling gently on the tender skin there.

  Abbie felt a quiver of delight down her spine. '"The man-hunter" or the "paper-bag job"?' she reminded him satirically.

  Jarrett moved back slightly to look down at her, winc­ing as he saw the laughter glowing in her eyes. 'You heard that?' he groaned.

  'I certainly did,' she confirmed with a wide smile.

  'You thought I was an arrogant fool before we were even introduced!' he realised.

  'I thought you were a misogynist,' she corrected him.

  'It was only when you got to know me a little better you thought I was an arrogant fool!'

  'Never a fool, Jarrett.' She shook her head. 'A cynic, perhaps, but not a fool.' And she wasn't far from being a cynic herself; as Alison had pointed out at the time, they were two of a kind. She viewed men as warily as Jarrett viewed woman.

  'All that talk about strawberry trifles and chocolate eclairs!' he groaned self-disgustedly.

  Abbie laughed. 'Out of interest, what was your final verdict?'

  'After that initial meeting?' He delayed, obviously not happy with the question.

  Abbie put her head back, looking up at him questioningly. 'Yes...'

  He grimaced. 'You aren't going to like it.'

  She shrugged. 'I learnt long ago to deal with things I don't like,' she assured him enigmatically.

  Despite her efforts to make light of her statement, she could still sense Jarrett looking at her questioningly, only to be met with bland indifference as she returned his gaze. That was how she dealt with things she didn't like!

  'Ice cream,' he told her bluntly. 'Delicious to look at, but cold to eat.'

  She schooled herself to remain unmoved by the de­scription, although inwardly she had to admit she felt hurt. He was wrong about her, so very wrong... 'And the next day?' she persisted. 'What did you think of me then?'

  He sighed. 'Abbie—'

  'Jarrett!' she prompted.

  They were still dancing, moving slowly to the music, totally unaware of the other people dancing near them. In fact, totally unaware of anyone else in the room, their attention focused only on each other.

  'Don't tell me,' Abbie decided. 'I just know I'm going to like this even less!'

  Jarrett grimaced again. 'Still ice cream,' he admitted reluctantly.

  It hurt. She would be lying if she said anything else, but by the same token she knew it was the impression she had aimed for for so many years. Ice cream. Cold. Emotionally removed.

  'And now?' she pressed huskily.

  'Ah, now.' Jarrett looked much more comfortable with 'now'. 'Baked Alaska in reverse,' he told her with­out hesitation.

  'I beg your pardon?' Abbie looked up at him incredu­lously, totally baffled by the description.

  'Have you ever eaten baked Alaska?'

  'Yes...'

  He nodded. 'Then you'll know it's ice cream in the middle and sweet meringue on the outside?'

  Her eyes widened. 'And you think that I—'

  'Cold ice is the facade you present to the world,' he confirmed. 'And sweet meringue is what you are inside.'

  To say she was stunned would be an understatement; Jarrett was obviously coming to know her much better than she would wish!

  It hadn't been too difficult keeping men at a distance these last few years, the majority accepting that cool facade she chose to present to the world. Those who were only interested in the Sutherland millions were easily dispatched.

  Jarrett didn't belong to the latter category; he was as rich if not richer than she was, and he didn't accept her cold exterior as the real Abbie either...

  'I want to get out of here, Abbie,' he told her gruffly. 'Take you back to my apartment, melt the ice cream and drown in the sweet meringue!' His eyes blazed deeply gold.

  She swallowed hard, images of the two of them to­gether flashing inside her head in spite of herself. Despite his opinion of women, she didn't doubt that Jarrett would be a considerate lover, unselfish, wanting his partner to know full pleasure before he allowed his own feelings to spiral out of control. The evocative im­ages his words had given her made her tremble with anticipation of that pleasure.

  She moistened her lips. 'Too much of a sweet thing can make you sick,' she warned huskily.

  He shook his head. 'Maybe I'll be like Stephen and find I like baked Alaska best.' He throatily reminded her of that conversation in Canada.

  Again she swallowed hard. "Think of the tedium, Jarrett.' She reminded him of the same conversation.

  He shrugged. 'Baked Alaska is one of those rare and unusual desserts.'

  'But as a staple diet it could become nauseating,' Abbie persisted, feeling they were on very dangerous ground. In fact, the most dangerous thing about this con­versation was that she was fast being seduced by it!

  Jarrett looked down at her, his eyes searching. "The thing is, Abbie, you aren't always baked Alaska. You're never that Eclair I first likened you to, insubstantial on familiarity, but sometimes you're marshmallow, at oth­ers you're a brandy snap—but the one thing that you never are is tedious!'

  Abbie stared at him, no longer even able to speak. What was she going to do?

  'Come on.' He took a firm hold of her arm, turning her back towards their table as he made the decision for her. 'I'll pay the bill and we'll get out of here!'

  She felt as if she was on a rollercoaster ride, with Jarrett at the helm. And she wasn't sure she wanted to get off!

  She accompanied Jarrett as if in a daze, just the touch of his hand on her arm making her fully aware of him. This had never happened to her before, and it was with a man who angered her one moment and made her laugh the next! What—?

  'Jarrett? Jarrett, it is you!' greeted a female voice be­fore they actually reached their table. 'You didn't stay in Canada very long,' the woman added with haughty amusement, reaching up to kiss him warmly on the lips, her heady perfume easily discernible. 'Let me guess, the Black Widow eluded you yet again!' she taunted hap­pily.

  Abbie had felt the equivalent of an electric shock shoot through her at the first sound of that voice, but as the words the woman was saying penetrated that shock she felt a numbness starting to creep over her.

  For the woman was none other than her own step­daughter, Cathy Sutherland.

  And, from the familiarity with which she had greeted Jarrett, the way she was talking, the two of them knew each other very well!

  CHAPTER TEN

  His worst nightmare had become reality! What were the chances, the odds, of him meeting Cathy Sutherland, while in Abbie's company, before he had a chance to tell Abbie of his acquaintance with the other woman? Almost nil, he would have thought! Yet it had happened. He could see by the rising cold-and disgust on Abbie's face that his oversight in having been completely honest with her over Cathy this was going to cost him dearly. And he didn't on a business level!

  Cathy's remark about the Black Widow— Hell! ‘I did try to tell you, Jarrett,' Cathy continued to make situation worse. 'It's virtually impossible to— ...!' She at last seemed to realise who Jarrett's lion was, openly staring at Abbie now, two bright spots of red becoming visible on her cheeks as her face paled. She turned, incredulous, to Jarrett, before looking back to Abbie. 'My God, Jarrett,' she breathed, you did it. You actually got through the security system the woman herself!'

  She gave that trilling laugh that so grated on Jarrett's nerves on the other occasions had met her, and did so even more now. 'You're very—glamorous, Sabina,' she drawled. 'It must Jarrett's influence,' she added bitchily. There really was no love lost between these two women; Jarrett could see that all too clearly as Abbie the other woman's words with cold disdain. But, heard how Cathy and her brother had tried to

  take Charlie away from her own mother purely for fi­nancial reasons, he certainly couldn't blame Abbie for her contempt of the older woman!

  But as that violet gaze was turned on him he could see he was included
in those feelings of contempt. Once again, he couldn't blame Abbie for feeling that way; she knew now he hadn't been completely honest with her. In fact, from the dislike he could feel emanating from her in his direction, he could tell that Abbie believed he had blatantly lied to her. It wasn't true, of course, but she didn't exactly look in the mood to listen to his ex­planation of having been economical with the truth! Damn, damn, damn!

  'Well, it looks as if I've interrupted your evening for long enough,' Cathy dismissed lightly. 'Do call me, Jarrett.' She reached out and touched the hardness of his cheek in a gesture that smacked of intimacy. 'I'm simply longing to hear all your news,' she trilled, before turning to Abbie, blue eyes glittering hardly, her mouth twisted into a scornful smile. 'Lovely to see you again, Sabina,' she added insincerely. 'Say hello to the brat for me.' She turned and walked away to rejoin her friends at a table across the room.