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  She shook her head in denial. ‘It was what you wanted too—’

  ‘You have absolutely no idea what I want!’ he rasped, grey eyes glacial.

  ‘You’re right. I don’t.’ She swallowed hard, her expression pained. ‘Nor is there any point in the two of us discussing any of this when we will both be leaving in a few hours’ time.’

  ‘I’m not waiting a couple of hours, Stazy.’ He gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘My bag is already packed, and I have every intention of leaving as soon as we’ve finished this conversation,’ he assured her hardly.

  He spoke as if he couldn’t tolerate being in her company another moment longer than he had to, Stazy realised. It was a realisation that hurt her more than she would ever have believed possible.

  Her chin rose proudly. ‘Then consider it over.’

  Jaxon stared at Stazy in frustration, knowing he wanted to shake her at the same time as he wanted to pull her up into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  Where the hell was the vulnerable woman he had held in his arms all night long because she had been so worried about her grandfather? The same warm and sensuous woman who had responded so heatedly to his lovemaking the following morning?

  Did that woman even exist or was she just a figment of his imagination …?

  Jaxon had found himself wondering that same thing often when, time and time again, day after day, he had been presented with that brick wall Stazy had built so sturdily about her emotions.

  And now, the morning of his departure, when he might never see Stazy again, really wasn’t the time for him to try to breach those walls one last time.

  He nodded abruptly. ‘In that case. I hope you enjoy your trip to Iraq.’

  Stazy no longer had any real interest in going on the dig she had once looked forward to with such professional excitement. No longer had any real interest in doing anything with the rest of her summer break now that the time had come to say goodbye to Jaxon … Which was ridiculous. He had no place in her life—had made it perfectly clear during these last few minutes that he didn’t want a place in her life! So why should just the thought of Jaxon leaving, the possibility of never seeing him again, have opened up a void inside her she had no idea how to fill?

  It shouldn’t. Unless—

  No …!

  Stazy stopped breathing even as she felt the colour draining from her cheeks. She couldn’t possibly have fallen in love with Jaxon this past week?

  Could she …?

  The threatening tears and the deep well of emptiness inside her just at the thought of never seeing him again after today told her that was exactly what she had done.

  Had she ever done anything this stupid in her life before? Could there be anything more stupid than Dr Stazy Bromley, lecturer in Archaeology, falling in love with Jaxon Wilder, A-list Hollywood actor and director? If there was then Stazy couldn’t think of what that something could possibly be!

  The best Jaxon could think of her was that she had been a temporary and no doubt annoying distraction while he’d been stuck in the depths of Hampshire for a week doing research. She didn’t even want to dwell on the worst Jaxon could think of her …!

  She swallowed before speaking. ‘I wish you an uneventful flight back to America.’

  He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘It seems we’ve managed to achieve politeness this morning, after all!’

  And if that politeness didn’t soon cease Stazy very much feared she might make a complete fool of herself by giving in to the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She stood up abruptly. ‘If you’ll excuse me? I have to go upstairs and finish packing.’

  No, Jaxon didn’t excuse her—either from the room, or from instigating the strained tension that had existed between the two of them these past five days. If it hadn’t been for the buffer of Geoffrey’s presence then Jaxon knew, research or not, he would have had no choice but to leave days ago.

  Damn it, what did it take to get through—and stay through!—that wall of reserve Stazy kept about her emotions? Whatever it was, he obviously didn’t have it.

  He breathed his frustration. ‘Will you attend the English premiere with your grandfather when the time comes?’

  She blinked. ‘Isn’t it a little early to be discussing the premiere of a film that hasn’t even been written, yet let alone made …?’

  Probably—when the earliest it was likely to happen was the end of next year, more likely much later than that. Jaxon had arranged his work schedule so that he could begin filming Butterfly in the spring of next year, and after that there would be weeks of editing. No, the premiere wouldn’t be for another eighteen months or so.

  And there was no guarantee that Stazy would attend.

  Did it really matter whether or not she went to the premiere? At best the two of them would meet as polite strangers, if only for her grandfather’s sake. At worst they wouldn’t acknowledge each other at all other than perhaps a terse nod of the head.

  And that wasn’t good enough, damn it!

  ‘Stazy, I don’t have to go back to the States for several more days yet if.’

  ‘Yes?’ she prompted sharply.

  He shrugged. ‘We could always go away somewhere together for a couple of days.’

  Stazy eyed him warily. ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘For the purpose of just spending time alone together, perhaps?’ he bit out impatiently. ‘Something that’s been impossible to do since your grandfather arrived back so unexpectedly.’

  ‘Oh, I believe we’ve spent more than enough time alone together already, Jaxon!’ she assured him ruefully.

  He scowled darkly at her coolness. ‘What have you done with that night we spent together, Stazy? Filed it away in the back of your mind under “miscellaneous”, or just decided to forget it altogether?’

  Stazy flinched at the scorn underlying Jaxon’s tone. As if she could ever forget that night in Jaxon’s arms! Or what had happened the following morning.

  Or the fact that she had fallen in love with him.

  A love Jaxon didn’t return and never could. A love she wasn’t sure she could hide if, as Jaxon suggested, they were to spend several more days—and nights!—alone together.

  Even if she did feel tempted by the suggestion. More than tempted!

  To spend time alone with Jaxon away from here, to make love with him again, would be—

  Both heaven and hell when she knew full well that at the end of those few days he would return to his life and she to hers!

  Stazy feigned irritation. ‘Why do you persist in referring back to that night, Jaxon, when you’ve no doubt filed it away it your own head under “satisfactory, but could do better”?’

  His eyes narrowed to glittering slits of silver. ‘Are you talking about my performance or your own?’

  Oh, her own—definitely. Twenty-nine years old, with two—no—three lovers now to her name. Two of which had definitely been less than satisfactory, and the third—Jaxon himself—who had shown her a sensuality within herself she had never dreamt existed. A sensuality that she knew she would drown in if she spent any time alone in Jaxon’s company.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, Jaxon. If anyone ever asks I’ll assure them you performed beautifully!’ she told him scornfully.

  His nostrils flared. ‘Stop twisting my words, damn it—’

  ‘What do you want from me, Jaxon?’ She gazed across at him exasperatedly. ‘Yes, we spent a single night together, but we certainly don’t have to compound the mistake by repeating it.’

  He became very still. ‘That’s how you think of it—as a mistake?’

  Her brows rose. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I have no idea what the hell that night—and that morning!—was all about,’ he rasped impatiently. ‘But no doubt you do …?’ he prompted hardly.

  Stazy shrugged. ‘The result of a healthy man and woman having shared the same bed for the night. I’m sure I’m not the first woman you’ve spent the night with, Jaxon, nor will I be the las
t!’

  He gave a humourless laugh. ‘You really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?’

  She very much doubted that Jaxon wanted to know what she really thought of him. That he was not only the most heartbreakingly gorgeous man she had ever met—as well as the sexiest!—but also one of the kindest and gentlest. It had been that kindness and gentleness that had prompted him to spend the night in her bed so that she wouldn’t be alone with her fears for her grandfather. The same kindness and gentleness that she now had every reason to believe would ensure he wrote Anastasia’s story with the sensitivity with which it should be written.

  ‘It’s probably best if you don’t answer that, if it’s taking you this long to think of something polite to say,’ Jaxon bit out impatiently, and he crossed forcefully to the door.

  ‘Jaxon—!’

  ‘Yes?’ He was frowning darkly as he turned.

  Stazy stared at him, not knowing what to say. Not knowing why she had called out to him—except she couldn’t bear the thought of the two of them parting in this strained way. Couldn’t bear the thought of the two of them parting at all! ‘I never thanked you,’ she finally murmured inadequately.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For—for being there for me when I—when I needed you to be.’ She gave a pained frown.

  Jaxon stared across at her, having no idea what he should do or say next. Or if he should do or say anything when Stazy had made it so absolutely clear she wanted nothing more to do with him on a personal level.

  He had thought of her, of the night the two of them spent together, far too often these past five days. And of what had happened between them the following morning. The woman Stazy had been that morning, the warm and sensual woman who had set fire to his self-control, had been nowhere in evidence in the days since. But Jaxon knew she was still in there somewhere. She had to be. That was why he had suggested the two of them go away together for a couple of days—away from Bromley House and the restraints her grandfather’s presence had put on them. A suggestion Stazy had not only turned down, but in such a way she had succeeded in insulting him again into the bargain.

  He straightened. ‘Forget about it. I would have done the same for anyone.’

  ‘Yes, you would.’ She gave a tight, acknowledging smile.

  Jaxon nodded abruptly. ‘Your grandfather has my mobile and home telephone numbers if you should need to contact me.’

  She frowned. ‘Why would I ever need to do that …?’

  No reason that Jaxon could think of! Nevertheless, it would have been nice to think there was the possibility of unexpectedly hearing the sound of Stazy’s voice one day on the other end of the telephone.

  This had to be the longest goodbye on record!

  Probably because he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Stazy yet—still felt as if there was unfinished business between the two of them. A feeling she obviously didn’t share.

  Jaxon forced himself to relax the tension from his shoulders. ‘No reason whatsoever,’ he answered self-derisively. ‘I’ll go up and get my things now, and leave you to go and pack.’

  ‘Yes.’ The painful squeezing of Stazy’s heart was threatening to overwhelm her. Not yet. Please, God, don’t let her break down yet!

  ‘I’ll look forward to reading the screenplay.’

  He raised mocking brows. ‘Will you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed huskily.

  He nodded briskly. ‘‘Bye.’

  Stazy had to literally drag the breath into her lungs in order to be able to answer him. ‘‘Bye.’

  Jaxon gave her one last, lingering glance before opening the door and letting himself out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Stazy listened to the sound of his heavy boots crossing the hallway and going up the stairs before allowing the hot tears to cascade unchecked down her cheeks as she began to sob as if her heart was breaking.

  Which it was.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Three months later.

  ‘I HAD lunch with Jaxon today.’

  Stazy was so startled by her grandfather’s sudden announcement at a table in his favourite restaurant in London that the knife she had been using to eat the grilled sole she had ordered for her main course slipped unnoticed from her numbed fingers and fell noisily onto the tiled floor. Even then Stazy was only barely aware of a waiter rushing over to present her with a clean knife before he picked up the used one and left again.

  Not only was Jaxon in London, but her grandfather had seen him earlier today.

  After three months of thinking about Jaxon constantly—often dreaming about him too—it was incredible to learn that he was actually in London.

  She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I had no idea he was even in England.’

  ‘He arrived yesterday,’ her grandfather replied. He was now fully recovered from the gunshot wound and back to his normal robust self.

  That was more than could be said for Stazy!

  Oh, it had been a positive three months as far as her work was concerned. The dig in Iraq had been very successful. And when she’d returned to the university campus last month she had officially been offered the job as Head of Department when the present head retired next year. She hadn’t given her answer yet but, having worked towards this very thing for the past eleven years, there seemed little doubt that she would accept the position.

  No, on a professional level things couldn’t have been better. It was on a personal level that Stazy knew she wasn’t doing so well.

  A part of her had hoped that time and distance would help to lessen the intensity of the feelings—the love—she felt for Jaxon, but instead the opposite had happened. Not a day, an hour went by, it seemed, when she didn’t think of him at least once, wondering how he was, what he was doing. Which beautiful actress he was involved with now.

  Since returning from Iraq she had even found herself buying and avidly looking through those glossy magazines that featured gossip about the rich and the famous.

  If she had hoped to see any photographs of Jaxon then she might as well have saved herself the money—and the heartache!—because she hadn’t succeeded in finding a single picture of him during the whole of that time. With a woman or otherwise.

  The last thing she had been expecting, when her grandfather had invited her out to dinner with him this evening, was for him to calmly announce that Jaxon was in England at this very minute. Or at least Stazy presumed he was still here.

  ‘Does he intend staying long?’ she prompted lightly, aware that her hand was shaking slightly as she lifted her glass and took a much-needed sip of her white wine.

  ‘He didn’t say,’ Geoffrey answered dismissively.

  ‘Oh.’ There were so many things Stazy wanted to ask—such as, how did Jaxon look? What had the two men talked about? Had Jaxon asked about her …? And yet she felt so tied up in knots inside just at the thought of Jaxon being in London at all that she couldn’t ask any of them.

  Although quite what her grandfather would have made of that interest if she had, after her previous attitude to Jaxon, was anybody’s guess!

  ‘He’s finished writing the screenplay.’

  Stazy’s gaze sharpened. ‘And …?’

  Her grandfather smiled ruefully. ‘And I recommend that you read it for yourself.’

  She slowly licked the wine from her lips as she carefully placed her glass back down on the table. ‘He gave you a copy …?’

  ‘He gave me two copies. One for me and one for you.’ Geoffrey reached down and lifted the briefcase he had carried into the restaurant with him earlier.

  That second copy, meant for her, told Stazy more than anything else could have done that Jaxon had no intention of seeking her out while he was in England. And after the way the two of them had parted how could she have expected anything else!

  Her grandfather opened the two locks on his briefcase before taking out the thickly bound bundle of the screenplay and handing it across the table to her. �
�Read the front cover first, Stazy,’ he advised huskily as she continued to stare at it, as if it were a bomb about to go off in his hand, rather than taking it from him.

  Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed hard. ‘Have you had a chance to read it yet?’

  Geoffrey smiled. ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘As I said, you need to read it for yourself.’

  ‘If you liked it then I’m sure I will too,’ she insisted firmly.

  ‘Exactly how long do you intend to go on like this, Stazy?’ her grandfather prompted impatiently as he placed the bound screenplay down on the tabletop, so that he could lock his briefcase before placing it back on the floor beside him.

  Her hair moved silkily over her shoulders as she gave a shake of her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean …’

  His steely-blue gaze became shrewdly piercing. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You have shadows under your eyes from not sleeping properly, you’ve lost weight you couldn’t afford to lose—?’

  ‘I think I picked up a bug in Iraq—’

  ‘And I think you caught the bug before you even went to Iraq—and its name is Jaxon!’

  Stazy’s breath caught sharply in her throat at the baldness of her grandfather’s statement, the colour draining from her cheeks. ‘You’re mistaken—’

  ‘No, Stazy, you’re the one that’s making a mistake—by attempting to lie to someone who’s had to lie as often as I have over the years,’ he assured her impatiently.

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. There was a pained frown between her eyes. She knew from her grandfather’s determined expression that he wasn’t about to let her continue prevaricating. ‘Is how I feel about Jaxon that obvious?’

  ‘Only to me, darling.’ He placed a hand gently over one of hers. ‘And that’s only because I know you so well and love you so much.’

  She gave a shaky smile. ‘It’s probably as well that someone does!’

  ‘Maybe Jaxon—’

  ‘Let’s not even go there,’ she cut in firmly, her back tensing.

  ‘I have no idea how long he’ll be in England, but he did say he would be in London for several more days yet, so perhaps—’