Читать книгу Plain Jane Marries The Boss - Elizabeth Harbison - Страница 9

She waited for a tortuous five minutes before going through the dining room to the table where Trey and his father sat.

Trey stood as soon as she approached the table. “Sweetheart,” he said, drawing her hand up to his chest to turn her toward him.

Her pulse pounded madly, right to her fingertips. She was sure he could feel it.

He put his other hand on her hip and gave a half-smile. “Sorry, but we have to make this look good,” he whispered into her ear.

Before she could ask what he meant, he pulled her against him and lowered his mouth onto hers, muffling her startled exclamation.

“Make it look real,” he murmured against her mouth. His aftershave mingled with their warm breath. Jane breathed it in like life-giving oxygen, and surrendered to the thrill of his kiss. Blood pounded and coursed through her veins with the rocket power of adrenaline.

Trey trailed his hand down to the small of her back, drawing her closer to him for just a moment. In reality, the kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, but to Jane it was a tingling eternity.

He pulled back and gave her a devastating smile, his hand still resting casually on the small of her back. “I’m so glad you made it,” he said, in a normal conversational tone.

“Me too,” she gasped, eyes wide. She blinked. “You have lipstick—”

“Where?” He swiped at the wrong place.

“No, just—there.” He stood while she reached out and smudged the dusty-rose off his lips. When her thumb touched the corner of his mouth she had to force herself not to linger. Instead, she pulled her hand back, too quickly. He seemed to notice.

“Gone?” he asked, a little bemused.

“Yes.”

He smiled easily and turned with her. His hand burned a patch of heat into the small of her back then trailed off as he stepped aside as if to showcase her.

“Dad, this is my fiancée…Jane Miller.” His voice actually rang with pride. He was a better actor than she thought. “Jane, my father.”

The elder Breckenridge stood and gave a half bow. He had a thick mop of gray hair and the same strong jaw and straight nose as his son. His eyes were blue and clear. “Lovely to meet you, my dear. I’ve waited a long time for this.” He continued to stand as Trey pulled the chair out for Jane.

I know what you mean, she thought. She was surprised to hear her own voice sounding calm. “I have too. Trey has told me so much about you.” She paused and realized that her pounding heart seemed to have pounded some confidence into her. “How are you enjoying life in the south of France?”

His expression broke into pure pleasure. “Delightful. Wish I’d made the move years ago. I have a small, stone farmhouse, several dogs, goats, and all the peace and quiet I could ever want.”

“It sounds heavenly.”

“It is. I’ve been trying to get Trey to come and visit but he’s always so busy.”

She nodded and tried to deflect the criticism from Trey. “Do you play boule?” She’d seen them playing the French version of Italian bocce ball on television and thought it looked like fun.

Terrence Breckenridge’s eyes widened. “As a matter of fact, I’m second in the village. There’s one old-timer there who just cannot be beaten, though the Lord knows I’ve tried.” He gave a laugh. “Do you play?”

She shook her head. “But I’d like to give it a try someday.”

“I know just the place, and just the man to take you there.” He winked at Trey then said to Jane, “Enough about me, I want to know all about you. My son has been very secretive.” He gave Trey a pointed look.

Jane took a quick breath. “What would you like to know?” This was where the improvisation was going to begin. She said a silent prayer that she would manage without bungling everything for Trey.

“How did the two of you meet?”

She felt Trey’s eyes on her and spoke carefully. “At work. We’ve known each other for several years but we only recently…recently discovered—”

“That we’re in love,” Trey finished, laying his hand on top of hers. He must have noticed it trembling because he asked, under his breath, “You okay?”

Jane could barely breathe. “Fine,” she whispered back.

“Just realized it, eh?” Terrence asked Jane with raised brows. His expression was unreadable, but in exactly the way that Trey’s expression often was.

She swallowed and gathered her nerve. “Sometimes when you work with someone for a long time you don’t realize where business ends and personal feelings begin.” She looked at Trey, sending signals with her eyes and with her heart that she knew he wasn’t picking up on.

“Yes,” Trey said, as if he’d given it some thought, which she was sure he hadn’t. “Sometimes you need the proverbial bolt of lightning to wake you up.”

Jane looked at him incredulously.

“Indeed that’s true. I’ve seen it more than once in my lifetime,” the older man said, taking the wine list from the waiter. He perused it for only a moment, then ordered. When the waiter left, he turned his attention back to Jane and Trey. “I had no idea the two of you had worked together.”

“Yes.” Trey cleared his throat. “Jane is actually my administrative assistant.” He nodded, in a sort of marionette-like fashion, but didn’t add anything to it.

Jane thought she’d never seen him so nervous. “You know how your son is, always burning the midnight oil to get things done. We’ve spent a lot of time working together in close quarters.” She drew a tremulous breath. “I guess it was just inevitable that this would happen.”

“Bah!” Terrence picked up a roll and slathered it with butter. “You could work together for years and never feel a spark, no matter how close the quarters. It’s only inevitable when it’s right. And I can tell just from looking at the two of you that it’s right.”

Jane smiled, uncomfortably aware of Trey next to her. “It seems to be,” she hedged. You could work together for years and never feel a spark. His words stung with the truth.

The wine steward appeared and showed the bottle to Terrence for his approval. He gave a quick nod, then took the bottle from the waiter without bothering to take the customary sip of approval. “We need to drink a toast,” he said, cavalierly sloshing the wine into everyone’s glasses. “This is a sturdy little red wine from my new hometown, which I hope to introduce you both to very soon.” He handed the glasses to Trey and Jane. “Salut.”

They all drank.

“So,” Terrence said, setting his glass down. “No sense in beating around the bush. You two are thinking of getting married, eh?”

“Definitely,” Trey said, too loudly, too quickly. He slipped his arm around Jane’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

Inhaling the clean scent of his aftershave, she nearly closed her eyes in ecstasy. Then she allowed herself the momentary luxury of sinking against him. With her arm pressed against his rib cage, she could feel the steady beat of Trey’s heart. His body heat against her skin made her shiver with pleasure.

“I hope the lady agrees,” Terrence said, with a questioning lift of his brow.

“Yes.” With some effort, she straightened and took a bracing sip of the wine. “Ever since I met Trey, I’ve had the feeling he was the one,” she said, more honestly than Trey would ever know.

The older man beamed delightedly. “So when’s the date?”

There was a brief, awkward silence, then Jane said the only thing that came to mind. “February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day,” she added unnecessarily.

“Of next year,” Trey put in quickly. Then, with a shrug to his father, added, “Jane prefers a long engagement.”

Terrence looked at her. “Really, why is that?”

She felt the heat creep into her cheeks. “Why?” Her mind raced frantically. “Because…” She looked at Trey, whose face was curiously blank. “Because statistics show that people who are engaged a year or more typically have more successful marriages.” She thought she had read that, or something like that, somewhere. Sometime.

Beside her, Trey added an enthusiastic, “Yes.”

Terrence scratched his chin. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yes.” Trey picked up the reins. “Lots of studies have been done on the subject. The longer the engagement, the better the marriage.”

The waiter appeared then to take their orders, and Jane took the opportunity to breathe and collect herself. She wasn’t feeling as shy as she normally did in social situations. That was good. But she didn’t feel certain about her acting skills. That was bad.

When it was Trey’s turn, he hesitated over whether to get the chicken or the filet and Jane leaned in to whisper to him that the chicken dish was heavy on an herb he didn’t like. “Remember? At Chez Guis-line you said the tarragon tasted like soap leaves to you.”

After a long, questioning moment of looking at her, he ordered the beef.

“That’s what I like to see,” Terrence said, apparently oblivious to Trey’s silent query. “A woman looking out for her man. Call me old-fashioned, but it does my heart good.”

“Jane is old-fashioned too,” Trey interjected. “I just knew you two would hit it off.”

They both looked at him.

“In what ways am I old-fashioned?” she asked.

“Loyalty,” Trey said, letting his gaze linger on her for an extra moment.

“That’s an important quality in a wife,” Terrence agreed.

“That’s an important quality in anyone,” Jane said, just as Trey began to say the same thing. They exchanged glances.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, eyeing her steadily.

Suddenly there was an exclamation of surprise and Jane, who was lifting her water glass to her lips, was knocked soundly by an older woman passing by. The water spilled across her lap and onto the floor.

“Oh! I’m so terribly sorry!” the woman exclaimed.

Jane took her napkin and started blotting the water up. “It’s okay. It’s just water.”

“I just feel terrible,” the woman said, reaching down with a handkerchief she had taken from her purse and blotting at Jane’s skirt. “Just terrible.” She bumped her hand soundly against Jane’s, and the heavy diamond cut into her skin.