Название: His Perfect Partner
Автор: Laura Martin
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Was it really as easy as that for him? No time for reflection? Rachel wondered. No need to dwell on the fact that he had seen her again after all this time? Evidently not.
He was shaking. Jean-Luc stared at his trembling hand and gripped the business report he was holding a little tighter. What had he expected? What, exactly? That she would be pleased to see him? That she might care that he had put aside the pain of the past in order to help her when she needed it most?
He looked up and saw that Emile was watching him in the rear-view mirror. What would he be making of this? His employer, usually so cool and calculating, so in control.
Jean-Luc inhaled a calming breath and released it with a vow that he would not allow memories of the past to interfere with the here and now. Foolishly, he hadn’t expected to feel this way, so…disturbed by her. He pictured again the hate in her eyes. Her dismay at seeing him again had been clear.
The car swung away from the Grange and he caught sight of her at the window, watching him. Blonde and beautiful. How many hours had he spent, convincing himself that he was over her, before he’d decided on this course of action? Jean-Luc’s mouth firmed into a formidable line. Too many.
Rachel didn’t move for a long while, even when the vehicle was just a dark speck in the distance and the only evidence that he had been with her was the faint scent of his cologne and the thudding of her heart.
She could scarcely believe that he had been here, that she would have to endure the torture of seeing him again. Rachel held her head in her hands and sobbed as if her heart would break.
Naomi found her some ten minutes later. The old woman bustled into the room, a frown of concern creasing an already lined face. ‘My dear, whatever is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Everything!’ Rachel’s voice broke with emotion. ‘Everything,’ she repeated, picturing the scenes she had had to endure with Jean-Luc.
‘There! There! You have a good cry. I don’t think I’ve seen you shed a tear since your poor Aunt Clara’s funeral. It’s not good for you to keep all that emotion locked away inside. I know you miss her.’ Naomi paused to administer comfort in the form of a plump arm around Rachel’s shoulders. ‘Where’s your visitor?’
‘He’s left.’
‘Wasn’t here long.’ She handed Rachel a wad of clean tissues. ‘These tears aren’t anything to do with him, are they?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘You should have called me. I would have given him a piece of my mind, and him looking so nice and respectable, too. Hounding you for money, was he?’
‘Not exactly.’ Rachel wiped her eyes, struggling for composure. ‘He’s got a…a business proposition he wants to put to me,’ she croaked. ‘I’m meeting him again this evening…He’s picking me up at eight.’
‘You’re going out with him?’ Naomi sounded horrified . ‘But you can’t do that—you don’t know him from Adam!’
Rachel glanced at Naomi and saw from her expression that she really didn’t have a clue as to the identity of the suave and sophisticated gentleman she had shown into the drawing room. If only she knew! Rachel didn’t want to tell her, not at this moment, anyway, not while she herself was feeling so shell-shocked. ‘He comes from a reputable company,’ she murmured. ‘It will be…all right.’
‘Well, I hope so. A business proposition, you say?’ Naomi’s voice brightened. ‘Might there be chance of saving the Grange, then?’ she added hopefully.
‘I’m not sure.’ Rachel struggled to bring her tears under control, but a sob caught in her throat. ‘But if there’s a chance, I suppose I must try…’
She couldn’t decide what to wear—not that it mattered one iota, of course. It was a toss-up between making every effort and making no effort at all. In the end Rachel decided that pride had to show its more attractive face, and she chose a simple, yet elegant long-sleeved dress in fine black wool from her wardrobe.
His car was on time. Rachel, pacing nervously in the hallway, almost jumped out of her skin when the doorbell clanged. She was nervous—more than that, petrified. Jean-Luc’s unexpected appearance earlier that afternoon had had a debilitating effect. She hadn’t been able to do a thing in the intervening hours since his visit. She’d just sat and thought and remembered how it had been during those last glorious few days…
‘Wake up, sleepyhead!’
Rachel stirred faintly as the sensuous voice penetrated her dreams. She moved in the bed, hugging the crisp, white linen sheets close around her slender body, and smiled dreamily.
‘Do you always look this gorgeous in the morning?’ Jean-Luc’s deep voice, heavy with the seductive French accent was soft and enticing against her lips. ‘Baby, come on,’ he whispered, ‘open those beautiful blue eyes.’
She raised dark lashes and looked up in sleepy astonishment at the rugged, handsome face, lifting a hand in something approaching wonderment to touch the angled cheekbone. ‘Jean-Luc?’ Rachel smiled lovingly, hardly able to believe he was here with her. ‘What are you doing?’
He didn’t allow her to finish the sentence, not that she cared. His lips moved with possessive intent over her mouth, and Rachel found herself responding, despite the early hour and the fact that she was still half-asleep, despite the awful possibility that he could be found here in her bedroom by one of the servants or, worse still, her Aunt Clara at any moment.
She entwined her hands around his strong, suntanned neck and accepted his kiss, revelling in the strength and the warmth of his body—wondering once again how she had ever survived without it, ever survived without him.
Jean-Luc was so brave, so bold, so totally alien, like a wonderful being from another planet, entering her cocooned world, changing her perspective on life.
‘Hurry, ma chérie! It’s a beautiful day and I don’t want us to waste a second of it!’ He kissed her mouth lovingly once again, then disentangled her arms and pulled back the bedclothes, a smile curving his mouth at the sight of Rachel’s extremely functional cotton pyjamas.
‘Well, it’s cold in the country!’ She glanced down at her attire, wishing she looked more seductive for him, and pulled a comical face to hide her embarrassment. ‘My bedroom doesn’t have central heating.’
‘Don’t worry, you look beautiful.’ Jean-Luc ran a fingertip along the line of pearl buttons, tormenting her with the lightness of his touch. His dark eyes sparkled. ‘Fresh and sweet as the daisy.’
Rachel pouted. ‘Not even a little sophisticated and alluring?’
He pulled her to him and kissed her mouth. ‘Sophisticated—no. Alluring—definitely. ‘You are the sweetest of temptations.’ He looked at her as she had never seen him look at her before—naked desire in his eyes, the hunger of wanting her, pure rugged masculinity in every taut line, every fleeting expression. ‘Mon Dieu!’ The words were a groan beneath his breath. ‘How to resist you?’
‘Don’t try.’ Rachel’s eyes were wide and bold. She had never felt this way about any man before, knew with a deeply felt certainty that she never would again. ‘You know how I feel about you.’
‘For me it is the same.’ He tugged her СКАЧАТЬ