To Woo A Wife Read online

  ‘I’ve always known who I am, Jarrett,' Abbie assured n quietly. 'But I left Charlie last night, so I really would prefer not to leave her again tonight'

  ‘I want to talk to you, Abbie,' Jarrett said determinedly.

  She looked irritated by his persistence. 'In that case, you will have to come to my ski-lodge, and we can talk there. I'll send my car for you.'

  So that she didn't have to tell him her exact location. And if they were on her home ground her minder would be in close attendance;

  Jarrett very much doubted Abbie wanted being alone with him!

  "We can talk over dinner,' he pronounced. She looked far from pleased at his sheer bloody-mindedness, violet-blue eyes cloudy, a frown marring fee perfection of her brow. 'Is that really necessary?' she fully answered.

  This woman did absolutely nothing for his ego, Jarrett ruefully acknowledged. Although, at the same time, her of enthusiasm was a refreshing change after some of the women he had known over the years. If only he didn't find Abbie Sutherland so damned desirable!

  'We both have to eat, Abbie,' he shrugged.

  She still frowned. 'But not together.'

  He grinned, he just couldn't help himself; she was infuriating. Beautiful—but infuriating. 'Have you been involved in many relationships since your husband's death, Abbie?' he enquired, still not a hundred per cent sure of the role of the blond Adonis in her life.

  The startled look of revulsion on her face was enough to make him sure, very sure. But now he was curious about that revulsion. On top of her claim that she didn't have a sweet tooth it was very curious indeed.

  Was it possible she had actually loved her husband, and that was the reason there had been no relationships since his death? It would be just his luck to find a woman he wanted as badly as he wanted this one, only to find she was still in love with her dead husband!

  No, he didn't believe that was the case here. The man had been thirty years her senior, and the photographs Jarrett had seen of him did not show him as looking young for his years.

  But none of that altered the fact that there had been no man in Abbie's life since his death...

  'You said a business discussion, Mr Hunter,' she clipped, every muscle in her body seeming taut. 'I sug­gest we keep to that. My car will call for you at the hotel at seven-thirty.' And with that she turned and skied away to where Charlie and the blond Adonis had just com­pleted their run down the mountain.

  Jarrett watched her go, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he did so. Cool and distant, but he had touched a nerve somewhere just now with his question about men in her life, so the lovely Sabina Sutherland wasn't as untouchable as she would like to think she was...

  Although verbally wasn't the way Jarrett wanted to catch her!

  The white limousine arrived promptly at the hotel at seven-thirty, the driver getting out and coming round the car to open the back door for Jarrett to get in, the man's expression deadpan, but there was, nevertheless, a tightness about his unsmiling mouth, a tension in the broadness of his shoulders. For all that she was the expensive Sabina Sutherland, Abbie engendered a loyalty in her employees that threatened physical violence to anyone who looked as if they might harm her.

  Jarrett didn't want to harm her, he had something much more pleasurable in mind?

  Jarrett grinned at the man unabashedly as he got into the back of the limousine. 'Thanks,' he had time to murmur before the man closed the door firmly behind him— not quite a slam, but it was certainly more forceful than was necessary.

  And the glass divider between the back and the front of the car was firmly closed. Not that Jarrett particularly minded that either, being lost in his own thoughts, and not inclined towards conversation.

  He had met Stephen and Alison this afternoon as ar­ranged, the couple due to go back to England the fol­lowing day, their honeymoon over. Stephen had been unrepentant about his part in last night's subterfuge, snigging it off, with the comment that if Abbie had wanted him to know who she was then she would have do him herself.

  Alison had been a little more forthcoming than that, defending her friend, and warning Jarrett against causing her any more grief. It was the 'any more' that intrigued him... What 'grief—apart from her husband dying two years ago—could a woman of Sabina Sutherland's beauty and wealth possibly have encountered in her twenty-seven years? That was just one of the many things Jarrett wanted to know about her...

  Lights blazed from inside the ski-lodge as Jarrett stepped out of the car, the steps up to the door clear of snow, even though it had been falling lightly for most of the day.

  Tony opened the door to him, his expression even more deadpan than the chauffeur's had been, although his tone was polite enough as he took Jarrett through to the sitting-room. But again there was that leashed ten­sion about the other man, warning Jarrett that if he stepped out of line, by even an inch, he would have Tony to answer to.

  Jarrett had been expecting this, could easily dismiss it—what he hadn't been expecting was, as he entered the sitting-room, to find Abbie rolling about on the car­pet with Charlie as mother and daughter tried to tickle each other!

  He felt that fast becoming familiar physical reaction to the natural beauty and allure of this totally fascinating woman, wondering what it was about Abbie that caused him to react so instinctively. This was the third time in two days he had felt uncomfortable with his own arousal, having reacted exactly the same way this morning on the ski-slope. So much for the claimed effect of a cold shower—the freezing temperature this morning had done nothing to alleviate his response!

  Abbie sat up, as if she sensed she and Charlie were no longer alone, some of her hair having escaped from the long plait she wore down her spine, so that it fell in wispy tendrils about her make-up less face, the beauty of

  At face somehow more enhanced by its lack of cosmetics, rather than detracted from.

  She was dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and black leggings, and Jarrett was damn sure she wore nothing beneath the former, her breasts pert and enticing beneath the thin cotton material.

  Jarrett realised he wanted nothing more than to make love to her here and now, on the carpet in front of the flowing log fire.

  ‘Is it that time already?' Abbie got up off the floor, flung back those loose tendrils of dark hair before sprang out to grasp Charlie's hand and pull her up side her.

  Charlie looked as adorable as her mother, enchantingly so in a knee-length nightgown with a rabbit pattern torning its front.

  'Jarrett!' she cried out excitedly as she ran lightly across the room to hug him, her face glowing from the time of play with her mother.

  He couldn't resist the openness with which the little girl greeted him, going down on his haunches to hug her in return—although part of him couldn't help wishing it had been her mother who had been so pleased to see him, and that she had greeted him in the same way!

  Dream on, Hunter, he told himself ruefully as he straightened; Abbie was looking at him warily, not with pleasure.

  ‘I’ll just take Charlie to bed—' Abbie held out her hand to her daughter '—then I'll change quickly and be with you in a few minutes. I had no idea it was so late.' shook her head.

  Obviously she wasn't exactly filled with anticipation of seeing him again, Jarrett decided. Damn it, he had changed his shirt at least three times, in an effort to strike the right note, neither too formal nor too casual, finally deciding on a pale lemon shirt with black trou­sers, unwilling to wear a tie. And Abbie couldn't have forgotten completely that she had invited him here for dinner; after all, the car had been sent for him—although that order, he realised, could have been given hours ago! But she certainly hadn't looked forward to this meeting in the way he had. And the knowledge wasn't exactly flattering to his ego!

  'Don't bother to change on my account,' he told her with harsh dismissal. 'You look fine to me as you are.'

  She gave him what looked like a scathing glance, his opinion obviously unimportant to her. 'I
shouldn't be too long,' she bit out tersely. 'Tony will get you a drink.' She waved a vague hand towards the array of drinks on the side table before leaving the room with Charlie.

  Left alone together, the two men eyed each other across the width of the room, Jarrett easily meeting the challenge in the young man's gaze. He hadn't made a good impression on Tony the previous evening, either!

  The younger man moved to the drinks. 'What can I get you?'

  Jarrett held back his smile at Tony's deliberately bland tone. 'Whisky with ice will be fine, thanks.' He moved to one of the armchairs, sitting down uninvited—if he waited for an invitation from Tony he would be left standing all night. The other man gave the impression he would like to take Jarrett to the top of Whistler Mountain and leave him there—without skis! Again that nagging doubt entered Jarrett's thoughts as to the role Tony might play in Abbie's life...

  'Thanks.' He abruptly accepted the glass of whisky Tony handed him.

  Tony remained firmly planted in the room. It was im­polite to leave a guest to his own devices when he had just arrived, Jarrett accepted that, but he was sure that wasn't the reason Tony remained. He need have no fear of Jarrett stealing the family silver; there was something of infinitely more value, in Jarrett's opinion, that he had his eye on!

  Even as he thought of her, Abbie entered the room, having effected a transformation in the ten minutes since she'd left the room, her hair neatly pinned back at her nape, its shining glory totally tamed, her cream blouse neat and uncomplicated, matched with cream fitted trou­sers that could do nothing to disguise the perfection of her figure. Jarrett was sure her look of cool elegance was meant to put him firmly in his place, but in fact it only made him want to kiss her all the more, to bare her lips of that peach gloss, and make a wild tumble of the dark thickness of her hair.

  He reacted like a gauche schoolboy every time he looked at this woman—and it had to stop!

  He stood up quickly. 'Amazing—a woman who can get changed in ten minutes!'

  Abbie raised dark brows at his mockery. 'And put my daughter to bed,' she reminded him.

  She was, he realised, starting to use her daughter as a shield between the two of them, which, rather than evok­ing the irritation he was supposed to feel, just made him grin. For one thing, he thought Charlie was adorable— and, for another, it showed Abbie felt there was a reason to erect a barrier between them. This woman wasn't as cool towards him as she liked to give the impression she was—as she would obviously like to be!

  'Thanks, Tony.' She dismissed the younger man. 'Could you tell Mrs Gregory that we will be ready to eat dinner in ten minutes?'

  The blond Adonis didn't look at all happy at being dismissed in this way, giving Jarrett a look of warning before he left the room.

  Jarrett smiled once he and Abbie were finally alone. 'He's obviously taken an instant dislike to me,' he stated uncaringly.

  Abbie poured herself a glass of mineral water. 'I'm sure he's far from the first,' she said.

  Jarrett's smile didn't waver; in fact it widened. She was no wilting wallflower, this woman, but he liked that about her. In fact, he liked everything about her! 'I'm not out to win any popularity contests.'

  'Just as well,' Abbie muttered pointedly, standing across the room—as far away from Jarrett as possible!

  He still smiled. 'As arranged, I saw Stephen and Alison this afternoon.'

  Her mouth quirked at this. 'And how is Stephen's nose?'

  'Unbloodied,' he acknowledged ruefully. 'I thought about what you said,' he explained. 'And decided it wouldn't look too good if Stephen returned from his honeymoon the worse for wear!'

  'That was very considerate of you,' Abbie returned dryly.

  'Oh, I can be considerate, Abbie,' Jarrett drawled.

  She looked at him with chilly violet-blue eyes. 'I be­lieve you have some business you wish to discuss with me?'

  Not yet, not if it meant he didn't get to spend the evening with this completely desirable woman. He had a much different end to the evening in mind than being thrown out before he had even eaten!

  'It can wait, Abbie,' he dismissed easily.

  Her gaze remained steady. 'You gave the impression last night there was some urgency involved.'

  He gave a relaxed gesture. 'Having now met you, there's no hurry.' No hurry at all!

  This was all very novel for him. Women rarely inter­ested him. Oh, he was as physically attracted to the fe­male sex as the next man, but the actual personalities behind that attraction, the ins and outs of those women's behaviours, what actually made them tick, had never interested him; in fact, it bored him immensely. But Abbie Sutherland, with her extraordinary beauty, violet-blue eyes, and frosty manner, intrigued him in a way he could never remember a woman doing before.

  And, instead of running like hell, he couldn't wait to see the woman again!

  Amazing!

  But there was so much about Abbie Sutherland that was still a mystery to him. Cathy had given him the impression her stepmother was nothing but a money-grasping opportunist, and yet, faced with the woman her­self, for all that it would be better if he could accept that about Abbie, Jarrett was finding it harder and harder to believe. Abbie had a dignity about her, an aloofness that owed nothing to money, and part of him was sure that veneer hid a very vulnerable woman.

  Or maybe that was the way she had captured a man like Daniel Sutherland, that aloofness acting as a chal­lenge to him, the vulnerability bringing out the protec­tive instinct in him. Maybe Jarrett was being as gullible as Daniel Sutherland!

  His mouth tightened as that possibility occurred to him, and he stood up abruptly, aware that Abbie was now watching him with wary eyes. But making a fool of himself over a woman was something he had sworn would never happen to him. And Abbie Sutherland was not going to prove the exception to that rule!

  Her wariness increased as he stepped purposefully to­wards her, alarm darkening her eyes to pure violet Almost as if she knew he was about to kiss her!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  No matter what he might think to the contrary, Jarrett Hunter was not going to kiss her!

  Abbie didn't even know why she thought he was go­ing to—there had been nothing in his manner seconds ago to indicate that was his intention—but a part of her was absolutely positive that was exactly what he thought he was going to do. Well, he could think what he damn well pleased; the chances of him actually succeeding were as high as the snow on Whistler Mountain all melt­ing away by morning—nil!

  'I don't think so, Jarrett,' she told him sharply as she stepped neatly sideways out of his reaching arms.

  He stopped where he was, looking at her with tiger-like intensity. 'No?' he finally drawled.

  'No.' She gave a firm shake of her head.

  He raised dark brows. 'You aren't attracted to me?'

  She blinked at the directness of his question. But it was what she should have expected from this man; he had been totally forthright since the moment she met him last night. In fact, he had been forthright to the point of rudeness!

  As for being attracted to him—she wasn't sure what she felt towards him. She knew that since meeting him on the slopes this morning she had found her thoughts wandering from what she was doing several times as she remembered her conversations with him. Which was strange in itself... No man had made such an impact on her, either during her marriage or since it.

  She had finally become annoyed with herself, delib­erately giving the impression when he arrived earlier that she had forgotten his expected arrival this evening, to such an extent she hadn't even bothered to change. But for all the good that had done as a put-down—if his behaviour now was anything to go by—then she might as well not have bothered!

  She met him head-on, betraying none of her inner conflict. 'I have an aversion to being—manhandled,' she told him.

  His brows were raised even higher, a seductive smile fleeting across his lips. 'How about if I just kiss you but don't hold you?'

 
He was deliberately taunting her now. 'In any way, Jarrett,' she bit out harshly.

  His stance became relaxed, although he still looked challenging to Abbie. 'I suppose in your position that isn't too difficult to achieve,' he said thoughtfully.

  She looked at him with a furrowed brow. 'In my po­sition?' she repeated softly—exactly what had he meant by that?

  Jarrett strolled unconcernedly across the room to pick up his glass of whisky before answering her. "The rich widow of a multimillionaire—I'm sure it can be intimi­dating to a lot of men.'

  It certainly could—and that was the way she liked it! 'Obviously not to you,' she returned.

  'That's because I'm a multimillionaire myself,' he told her. 'Besides, Abbie, I'm not easily intimidated.'