Читать книгу Blind Dates and Other Disasters - Barbara Hannay - Страница 14

THANK GOD it’s Friday, Holly thought as the drinks waiter handed over her champagne glass of lemon, lime, bitters, and a dash of honey. She savoured a long, thankful taste before looking over the room. All of the guests at the Arty Pants Modern Art Gallery Charity Evening were smiling, chatting, and paying a good deal of attention to the art. All was well.

Until one man in the corner smiled her way. A man in an expensive suit, blond hair thinning and styled to within an inch of its life, strong tan, perfect teeth. Holly’s smile faded.

Oh, boy, not another one. Do they pop out of an assembly line just to attend parties and openings and corroborate my theory?

The man raised his glass in salute. Holly gave him a short polite nod and then moved away.

Luckily Lydia had just arrived, back from a week assisting at a Star Trek conference in Sydney.

‘Hello, gorgeous!’ Lydia called out as though she were on the other side of the room, not leaning into Holly’s arms for a fond embrace. ‘Loving it all, Holl. Great food, fabulous music and a feast for the eyes. Speaking of which, that blond dish in the corner is eyeing you up.’

Holly shot a quick glance at the man. He was still watching her over his tumbler.

‘Sorry, Lydia. Not interested.’

Lydia raised a thin blonde eyebrow in disbelief. ‘Why? Do you have something better lined up for dinner already?’

‘Hardly. The truth is, while you were away Ben set me up on a spate of blind dates and the thought of telling my life story one more time makes me feel sick to the stomach.’

‘So the husband hunt is off to a flying start, hey?’

Holly shrugged.

‘Of course, while you were off having wildly romantic nights with dozens of men, I was fending off pointy eared, eight-foot geeks in rubber masks. Though there was this one Klingon …’ She smiled slowly, before shaking her head clear. ‘Anyway, please renew my hope in mankind. Tell me they were all delicious.’

Holly laughed. ‘Tiresome, more like.’

‘Hmm. Tiresome, were they?’ Lydia waved a hand, indicating her question related entirely to bedroom pursuits.

Holly grabbed the offending hand. ‘Lydia!’

‘Come on, then. Gory details, please. I expect to be swooning at the end of this.’

‘No promises, but here goes. Wednesday’s guy took me to a restaurant where we had to sit on the floor, which was fine, until he removed his shoes. Foot odour competing with curry is not a scent I will soon forget.’

‘So buy him cotton socks. Ooh, and you could wash his feet every night. Terribly sexy. Next!’

‘Okay. Last night my blind date picked me up from work. Nice car. Nice conversation. Nice guy. Until he took me via home to meet his mother. And that was before dinner.’

‘You are too picky. Mummy’s boys can be wonderful. I’ll bet he even cooks and cleans.’

‘You think I’m too picky? Well, then, beat this, one gentleman offered to sire me a football team.’

Lydia’s effusive laugh rang across the room so that several people turned their way. ‘Now that one is a definite keeper. If you don’t want him, give him my number.’

Holly felt an unwelcome prickling in her stomach at the thought of giving Lydia’s phone number to that particular blind date.

‘I guess this means fending off next-morning phone calls from panting men is back on my job description.’

Holly did not have the opportunity to refute Lydia’s claim as her acquaintance’s eyes were fixedly focussed on something, or someone, beyond her shoulder.

‘Now that tasty morsel was worth coming along for.’ The younger woman nodded coyly at the vision behind Holly.

‘Who?’ Holly spun around to catch a glimpse of the object of Lydia’s divided attention. She could not hide her gasp at the sight of Jacob Lincoln ridding himself of his coat by the front door.

Lydia whirled straight back to Holly. ‘You know him, Itake it.’

‘Barely.’ Holly turned away from the door, her cheeks heating madly, her eyes scanning the room for safe ground.

‘Holl, you have a shockingly ineffective poker-face, you know. And if you are thinking you can avoid introducing us now, you are sorely mistaken.’

Lydia grabbed Holly by the elbow and spun her around to face the door. Together they watched the man straighten his tie, smile at the hat-check girl as he took his ticket, and then look up, overtly searching the room.

* * *

It took only a moment for Jacob to catch sight of the two women near the bar. The younger woman with the mop of blonde curls and hot pink feather boa wrapped around her thin shoulders was practically beckoning him with her eyes, whereas the woman with the sleek chestnut hair and vibrant form-hugging dress in a mix of eye-popping blues and greens seemed to be finding her shoes extremely fascinating.

Jacob took a deep breath, straightened his tense shoulders, pocketed his coat-check ticket, and made a beeline towards them.

Jacob’s usually confident gaze was flicking from side to side, his hands were clenching and unclenching in his trouser pockets and Holly knew he was, for once, unsure of himself. Amongst the bohemian crowd in which Holly felt totally at ease, Jacob was visibly unnerved, just as she had been amongst the beer, boxing and betting.

She smiled. Now they were even.

Holly guessed he probably felt more than a little overdressed, but he was disarming in his black dinner suit, crisp white shirt and lavender tie. He oozed masculinity amongst the eclectic group of buyers, dealers, artists, and hangers-on, standing out like a prize bull in a field of mangy goats.

He nodded his hello.

Holly nodded back, though her brisk glance barely connected with his. She could feel Lydia grinning enormously beside her and soon received a distinct jab in the ribs.

‘Jacob, this is my assistant, Lydia Lane. Lydia, this is Jacob Lincoln of Lincoln Holdings.’

Lydia offered her thin hand to Jacob, hot pink fingernails glinting in the created light. ‘Enchanted, Jacob.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine, Lydia,’ Jacob said, his tentative smile showcasing his dimples.

‘I never knew the man behind the name would be so young, and so damnably attractive. Either way, you are a breath of fresh air blowing into this old crowd.’

Holly tried hard not to laugh aloud at Lydia’s lavish efforts at sophistication.

Jacob leaned in closer to Lydia, his voice secretive. ‘I’ve never actually been to one of these evenings before.’

‘Really?’ Lydia whispered back. ‘Why are you here tonight, then?’

‘I was invited by the kind people of Cloud Nine Event Management.’

Holly looked up, her eyes narrowed, and finally connected fully with his. ‘No, you weren’t.’

Lydia coughed back a scandalized laugh.

‘I mean, I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list,’ Holly said more tactfully.

Jacob reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his invitation. Holly grabbed it and saw that it was addressed to the chairman of the Find Families Homes Foundation, the main beneficiary of the night’s takings. Her eyes flew back to his.

‘That’s you?’

‘That’s me.’

‘But they’re wonderful.’ ‘Meaning I’m not?’

Drowning in Jacob’s amused eyes, Holly gulped down a lump that had begun to hinder her breathing. She looked to her drink for inspiration and, finding only bubbles that matched the sensations in her stomach, she reached deeper for an explanation.

‘No, I mean they are so kind, one of my … Cloud Nine’s favourites. Their board always sends the most wonderful appreciative notes of thanks for our efforts but they have never sent a representative to the actual events.’

‘Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?’ The tinge of a Louisiana accent leant his naturally deep voice a captivating drawl and it washed like an intimate caress over her bare shoulders.

‘Looks like someone did not do her research,’ Lydia said. ‘Not my fault, of course. I’ve been out of town.’

Jacob grinned.

‘I have a question for you, Jacob. Lincoln Holdings runs all events in-house, don’t they?’ Lydia asked. ‘Why is that?’

Trust Lydia to get straight to the point. Holly pricked up her ears, very interested in the answer.

‘I like to stay in control, so I keep my interests close. I find no point in outsourcing work when I can usually do it better.’

Holly openly scoffed.

‘Though Holly and I will agree to disagree on that point.’

‘If you are not simply an A-list party-goer, and have no use for her professional expertise, how do you know my gorgeous young friend here?’ Lydia asked.

‘We’ve only met briefly once or twice …’ Holly mumbled.

‘Mutual friends set us up on a blind date.’ Jacob answered.

The two spoke over the top of each other, with Jacob’s deep, clear voice coming out on top. Holly groaned, wishing she had not felt the need to entertain Lydia with her blind-date disaster stories earlier.

‘Oh, you have to be kidding!’ Lydia jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her hands in glee, her ringlets bobbing up and down, all efforts at sophistication blown. And Holly knew Lydia would sooner not breathe than not comment.

‘Were you the guy with the live-in mother or the one who is planning on keeping Holly with child for the next decade? If he’s the one with the foot odour, Holl, I’d wash this man’s feet morning, noon and night.’

The one with the live-in mother? The one with foot odour? Had Holly been on further blind dates since meeting him? Ben had not mentioned a word of it. True, he had not asked Ben, just assuming the misguided idea would have lost its momentum by now.

But there had been others. And though that meant she was still forging ahead on her mad husband hunt, which he wanted no part of, he found he did not like the thought of her seeing other men one little bit.

‘Come on,’ Lydia repeated, ‘which one were you?’

Holly watched Jacob under lowered eyelashes. Since Lydia’s outburst, a small muscle in his cheek had been clenching and unclenching and his bright eyes were clouded by shadow. He turned an enigmatic smile her way, his stare so focussed it knocked the breath from her lungs.

‘Well,’ he said, his deadpan gaze never leaving her face, ‘I hope I’m the one who spoilt her for all others.’

Holly’s mouth flew open wide, ready to deny the ludicrous statement outright, knowing Lydia would otherwise lap it up.

And then it dawned on her. That was exactly what he had done. On her other dates she had been distracted. When they had picked her up, her mind had wandered to the night in the foggy street. When they had sat down to dinner she’d remembered Jacob in his impeccable suit, wearing those ridiculous yellow galoshes at the greyhound track. When they’d spoken they’d been drowned out by memories of Jacob’s smooth, sonorous voice, rich with charm and that barely there accent.

She had not been looking for problems on her dates, but looking for ways in which those men could measure up to this one. Having experienced his intelligence, wicked sense of humour, and looks so fine they made her knees weak every time she caught him even glancing her way, she was finding it hard to accept less in the other men she met.

But he so clearly did not match her criteria. Too detached, too independent, too … too much. Not like Ben in the least. And Ben was her yardstick when it came to husband material.

‘How was the date, really?’ Lydia said, breaking the silence.

‘It was entirely dreadful.’ Holly said.

‘It was quite promising.’ Jacob said.

And again, his answer came through loud and clear.

‘Promisingly dreadful or dreadfully promising?’ Lydia asked.

Before either could answer, Lydia’s attention was drawn elsewhere. ‘There’s the superb St John. I have to congratulate him on his ace lithographs. I’ll leave you two sweet young things to yourselves, then, shall I?’

Lydia left in a cloud of youthful perfume and floating pink feathers, and once more Holly was alone with Jacob. She knew she should bid him good evening and walk away. The less time spent in his complicated company, the better.

She searched for a way out, someone requiring her professional attention. But she only found the simpering blond gentleman eyeing her like a hawk. She glanced back at Jacob and in a heartbeat knew the blond would be the safer option.

But it was too late. She was drawn into Jacob’s resolute hazel gaze and found herself rooted to the spot. She could not blame her bubbling drink for the hot flush creeping across her bare neck, as she had been drinking nothing bar lemon, lime and bitters with a dash of honey all night.

* * *

Jacob watched in fascination as the faint blush swept across Holly’s delicate shoulders. He felt an unrelenting urge to stroke a cool hand along her neck to feel its warmth. Her face hid nothing of the tumult raging inside her and he was amazed. Amazed at her strong physical reaction to him, though not amazed at how much he enjoyed it.

‘Why did you really come tonight?’ Holly asked, her eyes hiding none of her uncertainty.

Jacob plunged his hands deep into his pockets, knowing from her tone they were safer there than coming anywhere near this volatile vixen.

‘I had an opening in my calendar and the invitation offered free canapés.’ Jacob knew his flippant responses would wear thin, but he had no intention of telling her he had spent so much time thinking about her he was getting little work done.

The truth was he had decided the only fix was to see her again. The fantasy girl he had progressively built in his head over the last couple of days could only be toppled once tempered by the real thing. The bundle of nerves before him.

The husband hunter—who it turned out was infinitely more tempting up close and personal than even her fantasy version.

‘Where can a man get a drink around here?’ He searched the room, saw the small bar, and taking Holly by the elbow, led her to the counter. ‘Another for the lady and the same for me, please.’

‘It’s not champagne,’ Holly said.

‘That’s okay by me. You don’t drink?’

‘Not when I’m working, no.’

He had forgotten for a moment she was working. Foolishly, he had been lulled into feeling as if they were just out for a drink. He and Holly, together.

Mistake.

Holly played with one of her dangly turquoise earrings as she turned to chat to the head beverage waiter, making sure the guests had so far been happy on the drinks front.

Jacob used the quiet moment to focus, to get back to the real reason he had come. The fact that she was on the lookout for a husband was not proving to be a big enough barrier to his temptation any more. So he took a good look at her, with every intention of finding as many faults as it would take to render her unappealing.

Her customary fringe was slicked from a dramatic side parting across her forehead, and hair was drawn into a low heavy bun at her nape, leaving her creamy shoulders bare. He wished she would wear her hair down for once. There, that was a fault. Wasn’t it?

With a critical eye his gaze moved lower, meandering down the delectable curves enhanced by her stunning, sleek, psychedelic dress. The lustrous fabric fell to the top of her feet, thus hiding her lovely legs. She covered them too often. He knew he was stretching to find a fault with that, but a fault it had to be.

And then, as though she sensed the direction of his gaze, Holly’s hand left her earring and ran down her leg to her foot, unconsciously rubbing the insole. Watching, enthralled, Jacob caught a glimpse of a simple gold toe ring on one sandalled foot and it surprised him. A touch of the gypsy amidst her cool glamour. He let out a deep breath, the simple frivolity of that one piece of jewellery promising so much more. So much hidden. So much waiting to be discovered.

Through her entire conversation Holly had been sure Jacob’s eyes had not left her and as such she had barely been able to concentrate on the poor waiter, having to ask him to repeat himself on more than one occasion.

But when she looked up Jacob’s wide eyes were on the waiter, who was dipping a teaspoon in and out of their drinks.

‘Is that honey?’ he asked.

Holly merely raised her eyebrows as if to say, You asked for it. She took her drink and sipped at it happily.

Jacob took his, sniffed at it, stared at it, and shook the glass. And even put his ear close to listen to it.

‘Why don’t you just try drinking it?’ Holly said, her voice full of laughter.

‘And why don’t you sit down for a second?’

‘Fair enough.’ Holly slid onto the bar stool next to his. She groaned in gratification as she eased the weight off her sore feet. ‘So, why did you come back from overseas?’

‘The time was right.’

She nodded, though she wanted more information. More background. Just more.

‘And with your sister’s impending marriage, I bet she’s happy.’

‘She is.’ For a brief second he let down his guard and Holly saw the genuine affection he held for his sister. His face glowed with it. And it was lethally charming.

Now that was a definite chink in her theory. This guy was meant to have no attachments. He could be devoted to his business. Or even passionate about his car. But he was not meant to radiate such tenderness when talking of another person.

Hang on. The theory could still hold true; she would just have to make another slight modification. Blood relatives were an exception to the ‘no attachments’ rule. That seemed only fair.

‘And the company?’ she continued. ‘Were your employees pleased to see you? Though it does mean they will have to start actually working, stop the three-hour lunches, and fire the in-house masseuse that Ben always raves about.’

‘Are you kidding? That’s the main reason I’m back.’ He touched his hand to the back of his neck. ‘I’ve had this dull ache in my third vertebra.’

‘Sure you have.’

Feeling cosy and safe in the conversation, she could not stop herself from asking the question that had been foremost in her mind for the last few days.

‘So are you here to stay?’

The sparkle left Jacob’s eyes as he considered her for a long, agonising moment. Her heart seemed to stop beating as she awaited the answer.

‘For now.’

She nodded, though her inappropriate angst had not been assuaged one little bit.

As though sensing the sudden weight of the subject at hand, Jacob turned the conversation to more ordinary issues. They talked about the gallery, and surprisingly Jacob knew a lot about the resident artist. He even had one of ‘the superb St John’s ace lithographs’ in his apartment.

Her feet lightly aching, Holly once more ran a massaging palm over the arch of her foot.

‘Long day?’ Jacob asked.

‘Long week.’

‘Too many nights out, I think.’

She stopped rubbing and sat up, slowly, not looking his way. ‘And I’d have to agree with you.’ ‘Maybe you should cut back?’ ‘Maybe I should.’

Holly’s pulse was racing. The swirl of meaning behind their innocuous conversation reverberated in the air around them. Was he asking her not to see other men? Was she agreeing? Was she mad?

‘What if …?’ Jacob said, his voice trailing off.

What if, what? Holly thought, her nerves screaming in anticipation. She felt like a bell still resonating long after it had been struck.

‘Dinner. Tomorrow night. Just you and me.’ Jacob turned on his seat, his left hand coming down to rest upon hers. ‘No strings. Just dinner.’

His little finger was stroking, playing, tantalising, sending hot, jolting shivers from her sensitive fingertips up her bare arms, melting the length of her suddenly rigid body. And then he smiled. Strength, Holly. A smile is teeth and lips and muscles. Nothing more.

‘I won’t demand any feet-washing at the end of the night. Unless of course you feel the urge …’

She pulled her hand away. She wanted strings. That was the whole point. Holly stood up behind the bar stool, putting herself a safe distance from his potent magnetism.

‘It’s never just dinner, Jacob. And neither should it be.’

‘But—’

‘But, you know my long-term plans. I want a husband. And you can’t even tell me if you’re still going to be in the country in a week, so I’m guessing marriage is not an option in your foreseeable future.’

All colour drained from Jacob’s face and there was her answer. So he loves his sister, so he supports charities, so he has a smile that liquefies all common sense. He is and always will be the indisputable anti-husband. There never was a safer bet.

‘I didn’t think so. So there’s really no point in having dinner, is there?’

For the sake of her own disobedient feelings she simply had to hit the point home as far as she could. So she lied. ‘Besides which, you’re simply not my type.’

Jacob blinked, his luscious eyelashes sweeping across his beautiful chiselled cheeks. ‘And those other poor saps during the week. Did they have the same advance warning I did?’

Holly shrank back from the bitterness in Jacob’s tone and she knew she was doing the right thing, cutting off all further contact before it was too late. Before he made such a deep impression on her she could not simply theorise it away.

‘Goodbye, Jacob.’

Holly walked away, feeling Jacob’s slighted stare burning into her as she crossed the room. She latched onto the owner of the gallery and he kept her sequestered in his bawdy, noisy group until long after Jacob had grabbed his coat and left.