Название: Under the Boss's Mistletoe
Автор: Jessica Hart
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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But at least she had the possibility of a job, Cassie reminded herself sternly as she got into the car. She had to concentrate on that, and not on the unnerving prospect of being shut up in a car with Jake Trevelyan. He had come straight from his office and was still wearing his suit, but, having slammed the boot shut, he took off his jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves before getting back into the driver’s seat.
‘Right,’ he said briskly, switching on the ignition. ‘Let’s go.’
It was a big, luxuriously comfortable car with swish leather seats, but Cassie felt cramped and uneasy as she pulled on the seatbelt. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Jake wasn’t just there, only inches away, filling the whole car with his dark, forceful presence, using up all the available oxygen so that she had to open the window to drag in a breath.
‘There’s air conditioning,’ said Jake, using the electric controls on his side to close it again.
Air conditioning. Right. So how come it was so hard to breathe?
‘I was half-expecting you to turn up on a motorbike,’ she said chattily, to conceal her nervousness.
‘It’s just as well I didn’t, with all those bags you’ve brought along with you.’ Jake checked his mirror, indicated and pulled out into the traffic.
‘I always fancied the idea of riding pillion,’ said Cassie.
‘I don’t think you’d fancy it all the way down to Cornwall,’ Jake said, dampening her. ‘You’ll be much more comfortable in a car.’
Under normal circumstances, maybe, but Cassie couldn’t imagine anything less comfortable than being shut up with him in a confined space for seven hours. They had barely left Fulham, but the car seemed to have shrunk already, and she was desperately aware of Jake beside her. Her eyes kept snagging on his hands, strong and competent on the steering wheel, and she would find herself remembering how they had felt on her arms as he had yanked her towards him.
Turning her head to remove them from her vision, Cassie found herself looking awkwardly out of the side window, but that was hard on her neck. Before she knew it, her eyes were skittering back to Jake’s side of the car, to the line of his cheek, the corner of his mouth and the faint prickle of stubble under his jaw where he had wrenched impatiently at his tie to loosen it.
She could see the pulse beating steadily in his throat, and for one bizarre moment let herself imagine what it would be like to lean across and press her lips to it. Then she imagined Jake jerking away in horror and losing control of the car, which would crash into that newsagent’s, and then the police would come and she would have to make a statement: I’m sorry, officer, I was just overcome by an uncontrollable urge to kiss Jake Trevelyan.
It would be in all the papers, and in no time at all the news would reach the Portrevick Arms, where they would all snigger. Village memories were long. No one would have forgotten what a fool she had made of herself over Rupert, and they would shake their heads and tell each other that Cassandra Grey never had been able to keep her hands off a man…
Cassie’s heart was thumping just at the thought of it, and she jerked her head back to the side, ignoring the protest of her neck muscles.
Comfortable? Hah!
‘Besides,’ Jake went on as Cassie offered up thanks that he hadn’t spent the last ten years learning to read minds, ‘I haven’t got a motorbike any more. I’ve left my biking days behind me.’
It would have been impossible to imagine Jake without that mean-looking bike years ago in Portrevick.
‘You’ve changed,’ said Cassie.
‘I sincerely hope so,’ said Jake.
Why couldn’t she have changed that much? Cassie wondered enviously. If she had, she could be svelte and sophisticated, with a successful career behind her, instead of muddling along feeling most of the time much as she had at seventeen. She might look different, but deep down she felt just the same as she had done then. How had Jake done it?
‘What have you been doing for the past ten years?’ she asked him curiously.
‘I’ve been in the States for most of them. I got myself a degree, and then did an MBA at Harvard.’
‘Really?’ said Cassie, impressed. In all the years she had wondered where Jake Trevelyan was and what he was doing, she had never considered that he might be at university. She had imagined him surfing, perhaps, or running a bar on some beach somewhere, or possibly making shady deals astride his motorbike—but Harvard? Even her father would be impressed by that.
‘I had no idea,’ she said.
Jake shrugged. ‘I was lucky. I went to work for a smallish firm in Seattle, just as it was poised for expansion. It was an exciting time, and it gave me a lot of valuable experience. That company was at the forefront of digital technology, and Primordia is in the same field, which put me in a good position when they were looking for a new Chief Executive, although it took some negotiation to get me back to London.’
‘Didn’t you want to come back?’
‘Not particularly. But they made me an offer even I couldn’t refuse.’
‘You were head-hunted?’ said Cassie, trying to imagine a company going out of its way to recruit her. Cassandra Grey’s just the person we want for this job, they would say. How can we tempt her?
Nope, she couldn’t do it.
Jake obviously took the whole business for granted. ‘That’s how it works.’ He pulled up at a red light and glanced at Cassie. ‘What about you? How long have you been with Avalon?’
‘Just since the beginning of the year. Before that I was a receptionist,’ she said. ‘I did a couple of stints in retail, a bit of temping, a bit of waitressing…’
She sighed. ‘Not a very impressive career, as my father is always pointing out. I’m a huge disappointment to my parents. The others have all done really well. They all went to Cambridge. Liz is a doctor, Tom’s an architect and even Jack is a lawyer now. They’re all grown-ups, and I’m just the family problem.’
Cassie had intended the words to sound humorous, but was uneasily aware they had come out rather flat. Rather as if she didn’t think it was such a funny joke after all. ‘They’re always ringing each other up and wondering what to do about Cassie.’
But that was all going to change, she reminded herself. This could be the start of a whole new career. She was going to turn Portrevick Hall into a model venue. Celebrities would be queuing up to get married there. After a year or two, they wouldn’t even have to advertise. Just mentioning that a wedding would be at Portrevick Hall would mean that it would be the last word in style and elegance.
Cassandra Grey? they would say. Isn’t she the one who made Portrevick Hall a byword for chic and exclusive? She would get tired of calls СКАЧАТЬ