The Yuletide Engagement & A Yuletide Seduction (26 page)

And part of her now wondered just how much of
that was due to the presence of Gabriel Vaughan in her life…

She quickly pushed the question to the back of her mind, not wanting to know the answer. He couldn't be coming to mean anything to her; he just couldn't!

“Was there a special reason for your coming up to town today?” she queried as she took her cup of tea from her mother.

Her parents looked briefly at each other before her father answered her. “Actually, Janette, I had a business meeting. Don't look so surprised.” He laughed at her shocked response to his statement. “I do still have some contacts in the business world, you know,” he chided teasingly.

And most of those contacts hadn't wanted to know when he'd run into financial difficulty and had to relinquish his company. To Gabriel Vaughan…

But, whatever had transpired earlier today at this “business meeting”, her father was transformed from that man already grown old at only sixty-one, his shoulders no longer stooped and defeated, that playful twinkle back in his eyes.

“I know you do, Daddy,” she soothed apologetically. “I just thought—I believed—”

“That I had turned my back on all that,” he finished lightly. “As most of them turned their back on me,” he added tightly, the first time he—or her mother—had ever indicated the pain they had suffered over the last three years because of the defection of their so-called friends. “Retirement isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know,” he added wryly, stirring sugar into his tea.

Especially when it had been forced on him!

But, nevertheless, her father was now sixty-one; he
couldn't seriously be considering fighting his way back into the business arena at this stage of his life…

Jane looked across at her mother, but her mother only had eyes for her husband: proud and infinitely loving. That love and pride in her mother for her father had never changed.

As it hadn't in Jane. It was just that she could see something else in her mother's gaze today, something she couldn't quite put a name to…

“Well, don't keep me in suspense, Daddy.” She turned back to her father. “Tell me what you've been up to!”

“I haven't been ‘up to' anything,” he smiled at her frustration. “And I'm not sure I should actually tell you anything just yet,” he added less assuredly. “Not until things are a little more settled. What do you think, Daphne?” A little of the hesitancy that had been with him so much over the last three years crept back into his face as he looked at Jane's mother for guidance.

“I think everything is going to work out splendidly,” Daphne answered him firmly, one of her hands reaching out to rest briefly on his. “But I'm sure it can all wait until after Christmas,” she added briskly. “You are still coming to us for Christmas Day, aren't you, Janette?” She looked across at her encouragingly.

Where else could she possibly be going for Christmas? Besides, she always spent Christmas with her parents. Even during the really bad times with Paul, Christmas had been a family time, when they had all been together, happily or not.

And she couldn't say she was particularly happy now with the way the conversation had been turned away from her father's business meeting earlier today. She never had been able to stand mysteries, and that dislike
had been heightened during her marriage to Paul, when everything he did and said had become questionable. Until it had got to the stage where she'd stopped asking and he'd stopped telling!

“Of course I am,” she assured them brightly. “But are you really not going to tell me anything else about what is obviously good news?”

Her father laughed. “Do you know, Janie, I haven't seen you pout like this since you were a little girl?” he explained affectionately at her hurt look.

Jane gave a rueful grin; maybe she had been trying a little too hard! “Did it work?” She quirked mischievous brows.

“Maybe back then,” her father conceded warmly. “But you're twenty-eight now; it doesn't have the same impact.”

She laughed. It was a long time since she had heard her father being quite this jovial. But she liked it. Whatever the reason for the change in him, and her mother, she could only thank whoever was responsible.

“Drink your tea, Janette,” her mother encouraged briskly. “Your father and I have a train to catch in a couple of hours.”

She sipped obediently at her tea; her mother was certainly starting to sound like her old self again too. In fact, it felt as if all of them were emerging from a long, dark tunnel…

“Why aren't you staying with me as you usually do?” she prompted lightly. “Do you have to rush back?”

“You're so busy, darling.” Her mother smiled understandingly. “We don't want to intrude on what little time you do have for yourself. I know you never mention any young men in your life, but you're so beautiful,
darling—more beautiful with your blonde hair, of course,” she sighed, “but—”

“Now let's not start that, Daphne,” her husband rebuked gently. “I agree with you, of course, but young women of today seem to change the colour of their hair depending on which outfit they're wearing! Janette may decide to be a flaming redhead by next week!”

“I don't think so, Daddy,” she assured him dryly—although she was glad to have the subject changed from “young men” in her life! Until Gabe had forced himself into her life just under two weeks ago, there had been no man in her private life at all in the last three years. And she didn't think Gabe was at all the sort of “young man” her mother was talking about!

“Neither do I, really.” Her father gave an answering smile. “And your mother is right, Janie—you are beautiful. And one bad experience shouldn't sour you for any future—”

“It did, Daddy,” she cut in firmly. “There have been no young men, there is no young man, and there will be no young men, either!” She didn't consider Gabe a young man at all, and he wasn't in her life—instead he kept trying to pull her into his!

“And just how do you think I'm ever going to become a grandfather if you stick to that decision?” her father chided softly.

“Adoption?” she suggested helpfully.

“Now stop it, you two.” Her mother tutted. “It's been a wonderful day, it's nearly Christmas, and I won't have the two of you indulging in one of your silly going-nowhere conversations. More tea, David?” she added pointedly.

It was wonderful to see her parents looking, and
being, so positive once again. And, Jane realised on her way back to her apartment an hour later, it was the first time for a very long time—three years, in fact!—that she had spent time with her parents without those feelings of guilt that had been like a brick wall between them.

Their lives were changing.

All of them.

Her own because of Gabriel Vaughan, she realised.

But if her parents were to realise, were to know that Gabe was the “man in her life” at the moment, albeit by his own invitation, how would that affect their own new-found happiness?

Not very well, she accepted frowningly. And nothing, absolutely nothing, must happen to affect her parents' mood of anticipation for the future.

Which meant, she decided firmly, that tonight had to be the last time, the very last time, that she ever saw Gabe…

“I
FIND
it very difficult to believe, with the catering connections you seem to have, that you couldn't book a table at a restaurant for us anywhere!” Gabe didn't even pause to say hello as he strolled into her apartment. “So we're eating at home again, hmm?” He turned in the hallway and grinned at her.

Jane's mouth had dropped open indignantly at his initial bombardment as he came through the open doorway, but his second remark, and that grin—!

“What can I say?” she shrugged. “It's Christmas!”

Heavens, he looked gorgeous!

She had spent the last two hours telling herself that Gabe meant nothing to her, that they would have dinner together, and then she would tell him this was goodbye. And this time she intended making sure he knew she meant it!

But he did look so handsome in the casual blue shirt worn beneath a grey jacket, and black trousers.

It wasn't true that she couldn't get a table at the restaurant: Caroline and Pierre were old friends; they would have found a table for her even if they'd had to bring another one into the restaurant for her! But a restaurant wasn't the best place for her to say goodbye to him, especially if he should prove difficult—as he had done in the past… And so she had acquired his telephone
number from Felicity and called to tell him they were eating at her apartment instead.

“I brought the wine.” Gabe held up a marvellously exclusive—and expensive—bottle of red wine. “You didn't say what we were eating, but I guessed it wouldn't be beans on toast!” he said with satisfaction.

“You guessed it was eggs, hmm?” she came back derisively.

Gabe gave her a chiding look. “I've had a good day, Jane; don't spoil it by serving me eggs!”

She grimaced as she took the bottle of wine and went back into the kitchen where she had been when he'd rung the bell. “Everyone seems to be having a good day today,” she murmured as she uncorked the wine, remembering her parents' happiness earlier. “Stay away from those pots, Gabe,” she warned sharply as he would have lifted one of the saucepan lids. “Anticipation is half the fun!”

“I know, Jane.”

She became very still, turning slowly to look at him. And then wished she hadn't. Gabe was looking at her as if he would like to make her his main course!

And she'd deliberately dressed down this evening, wearing a green cashmere sweater she had bought several years ago when she was still blonde, and a black fitted skirt, knee-length, not so short as to look inviting.

What she didn't realise was how much more the green colour of her sweater suited the new darkness of her hair, picking out those red highlights—she almost appeared the “flaming redhead” her father had referred to this afternoon!

“Glasses, Gabe,” she told him through stiff lips.

“Certainly, Jane.” He gave a mocking inclination of
his head before strolling across the kitchen, opening the correct cupboard and taking out two glasses.

Maybe having dinner at her apartment wasn't such a good idea, after all! Gabe was too comfortable, too relaxed, altogether too familiar with her home. And not just with her home, either…!

“What shall we drink to?”

While she had been lost in thought, Gabe had poured the wine into the two glasses, holding one out to her now.

“Good days?” he suggested huskily.

That had to be better than “us”!

This had not been a good idea. She could only hope the time would pass quickly.

“Why don't you go through to the sitting-room and pick out some music to play while I serve our first course?” she suggested abruptly, her usual calm having momentarily deserted her.

But then, when didn't it when she was around this man? It was past time to say goodbye to him!

“So why did you have a good day?” she prompted conversationally as they sat down to their garlic prawns with fresh mayonnaise, an old John Denver CD of hers playing softly in the background.

Gabe's gaze met hers laughingly. “Well, this morning I went for a run for the first time in two weeks—”

“Shame on you, Gabe!”

“Mmm, this tastes wonderful, Jane.” He had just tasted his first prawn dipped in the mayonnaise. “I can hardly wait to see what we have for the main course!”

With any luck, his enjoyment of the food would stop him talking too much.

She could live in hope!

The wine, as she had already guessed when she'd seen the label, was beautiful—rich and silky smooth. Only the best for Gabriel Vaughan.

“Did you have a good day too?” Gabe looked up from his food to ask her, frowning at her derisive smile. “What…?” he prompted warily.

She gave a mocking shake of her head. “We don't have to play those sorts of games, Gabe,” she told him dryly. “We're having dinner, not spending the rest of our lives together!” she explained scornfully at his puzzled expression.

“It starts with conversation, Jane, eating dinner together, finding out about each other, likes and dislikes, things like that. People don't leap straight into marriage—”

“I don't believe I mentioned the word marriage, Gabe.” She stood up abruptly, their first course at an end as far as she was concerned.

“As I've already said,” Gabe murmured, turning in his chair to watch her departure into the kitchen, “he must have been some bastard.”

She didn't remember him saying any such thing! But, nevertheless, he was right; that was exactly what Paul had been.

Their used plates landed with a clatter on the kitchen worktop, her hands shaking so badly she'd had trouble carrying them at all.

What was wrong with her?

She had made a conscious decision this afternoon to tell Gabe this was definitely the last time they would see each other. One look at him and she knew her resolve had weakened. One smile from him, and she began to tremble. If he should actually touch her—

“Anything wrong—? Hell, Jane, I only touched your arm!” Gabe frowned down at her darkly as Jane had literally jumped away from the touch of his hand on her arm. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”

She had asked herself the same question only seconds ago!

And, looking at him, she was beginning to realise what the answer was…

No!

She couldn't have those sorts of feelings towards Gabe, couldn't actually want him to touch her, to make love to her?

But she did; she knew she did! And she hadn't felt this way since— But no—she hadn't ever felt quite this way towards Paul. She'd never trembled at the thought of him touching her, had never ached for his lips on hers.

But she'd loved Paul. She wasn't in love with Gabe. If she was anything, she was in lust with him!

Oh, God…!

“What is it, Jane?” he prompted again, his frown having deepened to a scowl at her continued silence.

She had to pull herself together, finish the meal—she doubted he would consider leaving before then!—and then she must make it absolutely plain to him that she did not want him appearing in her life whenever he felt like it; that there would be no more runs together in the park, no more turning up at her apartment, and no more impatient messages left on her answer machine.

And, most important of all, there would be no further occasion for him to kiss her!

“Sorry,” she dismissed lightly. “My thoughts were miles away when you came into the kitchen, and I'm a little tired too, I'm afraid.” She gave him a bright,
meaningless smile as she voiced these excuses for her extraordinary behaviour, at the same time totally distancing herself from him as she crossed the kitchen to check on the food simmering on the hob. “If you would like to go back to the dining area, I'll serve our main course and bring it through in a few minutes.”

She deliberately didn't look up at him again before she began to do exactly that, but all the time she busied herself with the food she was aware of him still standing across the other side of the kitchen, watching her with narrowed, puzzled eyes. And then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he turned and impatiently left the room.

Jane leant weakly against the table in the middle of the kitchen. She had never wanted any man the way she wanted Gabe!

And there was no way, simply no way, she could ever assuage this sudden hunger she felt for his kisses and his touch.

She had always thought of him—when she'd allowed herself to think of him at all—as a man who took his pleasure where he found it, and then moved on. But the one thing she had learnt about him since his reappearance into her life was that if Gabe wanted something, then he didn't relinquish his right to it easily. And she didn't doubt for a moment that, physically at least, Gabe wanted her as much as she wanted him.

And she also didn't doubt that to give him what he wanted wouldn't mean it would end there…

Goodbye was the word she had to say to him. Not angrily; it had to be said in such a way that he would never want to come back.

The ache inside her would go away, she assured
herself as she served the noisettes of lamb with tarragon sauce and the still crunchy vegetables from the steamer, and then everything could go back to the way she liked it—untroubled, and uncomplicated.

Why did that realisation suddenly hold no appeal for her?

Ridiculous. That was what this whole situation was—ridiculous! Thank you. And goodbye. Four words. Very easy to say.

But could she say them as if she meant them?

Her heart skipped a beat when Gabe turned to smile at her as she came in with the food.

Thank you. And goodbye, she repeated firmly to herself. She would say them. And mean them!

“Cooking dinner for us this evening has been too much for you,” Gabe told her apologetically as she sat down opposite him. “I should have thought of that when you telephoned me earlier. You've already been at work today; the last thing you needed this evening was to cook another meal.” He shook his head self-disgustedly. “The least I could have done was offer to cook for you.” He sighed ruefully.

Jane knew from watching him the other evening that he was more than capable of doing it, too. But spend the evening at his apartment…? She didn't think so!

“Don't give it another thought, Gabe,” she dismissed—knowing that he'd been thinking about it ever since he'd left the kitchen a few minutes ago. And the reason he had come up with for her skittishness was obviously that she had been working too hard. “Cooking for two people, and in the comfort of my own home, isn't work at all,” she assured him.

“But the whole point of this evening was that I would take you out,” he protested.

“You know, Gabe,” she said softly, “I'm one of those chefs that's inclined to turn nasty if my food isn't eaten while it's still hot!”

He seemed on the point of protesting again for several seconds, and then he grinned, relaxing once again as he picked up his knife and fork in preparation for eating. “Never let it be said…!”

Jane ate sparingly, her appetite having deserted her with the realisation that after a couple of hours' time she would never see this man again.

How had he crept into her emotions like this—even lustful ones?
When
had he?

“—parents arrive in the country tomorrow, and I wondered if you could join us all for dinner tomorrow evening?”

Jane blinked across at him, having been lost in her own thoughts, and slowly took in what he had just said to her. His parents were arriving in London tomorrow? And why not? It was Christmas, and, from what he had said, he was an only child, too. But as for the suggestion of her having dinner with them…!

“I've told you, Gabe,” she replied lightly. “This is my busy time of year. I'm catering for a party of thirty people tomorrow evening,” she said thankfully.

“You work too damned hard,” he bit out disapprovingly.

“I like to eat myself occasionally.” She wryly pointed out the necessity for her to work. Maybe Gabe had forgotten what that was like; he was certainly in a financial position not to have to work any more, but she certainly wasn't!

He scowled heavily. “You shouldn't have to—”

“Now, now, Gabe,” she cut in tauntingly. “Don't let your chauvinism show!”

“This isn't funny, Jane.” He frowned across at her. “When I think—”

“I often think that the mere act of thinking only complicates things at times,” she dismissed calmly, putting down her knife and fork, the food only half eaten on her plate, although Gabe seemed to have enjoyed his, his plate now empty. “Would you like your cheese or dessert next? People seem to vary in their preference nowadays, I've noticed.”

“Actually—” he sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table as he looked straight at her “—I'd like an answer to my original question.”

She raised dark brows. “Which question was that, Gabe?” But she knew which one it was. She also knew that she had no intention of meeting his parents, now or ever! After this evening she wouldn't be seeing him again, either…

His mouth quirked, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “It isn't going to work this time, Jane. I would very much like you to meet my parents,” he told her bluntly. “And for them to meet you.”

“Why?” she came back just as bluntly.

“Because they're nice people.” He shrugged.

His parents wouldn't be the ones under inspection at such a meeting; she would. And she had been through all this once before in her life, eight years ago. She'd tried so hard at the time to win the approval of Paul's parents, little knowing that she needn't have bothered. The fact that she was the only child of very rich parents was the only asset she had needed in the eyes of Paul's parents!
It had never occurred to the elder Grangers that money could be lost more easily than it had been made…

Jane hadn't seen or heard from Paul's parents since just before Paul's death. On the one occasion she had attempted to telephone them they had claimed they would never forgive her for not even being at their son's funeral. The fact that she had been in a clinic at the time, having just lost her baby—their own grandchild—and that Paul had been in the company of another woman at the time of his accident, hadn't seemed to occur to them…