His Perfect Partner. Laura Martin

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      As she might have expected, the restaurant—situated in the main street of a picturesque country town, small and elegantly decorated—was of a high standard. The car drew up outside and they were greeted in the manner to which Jean-Luc had so clearly become accustomed.

      ‘We’d like to order immediately.’ Jean-Luc told the waiter as he showed them to their table. He turned to Rachel. ‘You still like scallops, I take it?’ She nodded. ‘Wild mushrooms?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He ordered for both of them in ten seconds flat, casting a cursory glance at the menu, choosing wine with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before.

      ‘I am capable of ordering for myself!’

      ‘You do not like the food I have chosen?’ He raised his arm to summon the waiter.

      ‘No, it’s fine!’ Rachel wished she had kept her mouth shut. She took a sip of mineral water and glanced around at her surroundings, anywhere except at Jean-Luc’s handsome face.

      ‘You have been here before?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘It has a good atmosphere, don’t you think? But the decor is a little…’

      ‘Insipid?’ Rachel murmured, automatically noting what she would do to improve things.

      ‘Yes.’ Jean-Luc nodded in agreement. ‘Exactly that. But we didn’t come here to discuss this restaurant’s decoration, did we? You will have given a great deal of thought to the future of the Grange over the past couple of weeks.’

      ‘Yes, of course.’

      ‘You will lose it, you realise that?’

      ‘It seems a distinct possibility.’ Rachel worked hard at sounding as businesslike and as cool as possible. If Jean-Luc could do it, why couldn’t she? She continued to speak swiftly, refusing her brain time to conjure up a whole host of very good reasons. ‘Although I haven’t entirely given up hope that the bank will give me some more time,’ she continued.

      ‘You should.’ Dark eyes gazed penetratingly at her. ‘Give up hope,’ he added bluntly, when Rachel raised a brow in query. ‘The Grange is a lost cause—’

      ‘If that’s so, why are you here now, talking to me?’ Rachel cut in swiftly. ‘Why are you bothering?’

      ‘If you will allow me to finish…’ Jean-Luc paused, and took a sip of mineral water, increasing Rachel’s nervous anticipation with the length of his delay. Whether he did so for effect, to produce the biggest reaction, or simply because he was working out a way to frame his next sentence, Rachel wasn’t sure. ‘I believe,’ he asserted, ‘that the Grange would make an ideal high-class hotel, health resort and conference centre.’

      She knew, even as half her brain railed against the idea, that Jean-Luc’s idea was viable. Her hotel and business acumen couldn’t be disregarded just because the Grange happened to be her home. She tried, though, she tried very hard to dispute it. ‘You are joking, surely?’ she replied.

      ‘Not at all.’ Ebony eyes held hers. ‘I never joke about business.’

      ‘You really think that’s the miracle plan that’s going to save the day?’ Rachel shook her blonde head, staring stubbornly down at the table so that Jean-Luc shouldn’t read her thoughts. Her mind was already assessing the possibilities, swiftly redesigning the interior to accommodate guest bedrooms and restaurants and leaping ahead to conference suites and leisure facilities.

      ‘I don’t remember mentioning miracles,’ Jean-Luc responded crisply, ‘just a business proposition that would be beneficial to both of us.’

      ‘You honestly think I could consider such a proposal?’ Rachel’s voice was tinged with half-hearted disbelief. ‘That I would want to enter into some sort of partnership with you?’

      ‘You know, Rachel…’ Jean-Luc lifted his glass and took a mouthful of wine ‘…that my proposition is the only thing capable of getting you out of this mess. I know you do—I can see it in your eyes.’

      ‘Can you, indeed?’ Rachel said through gritted teeth. ‘How clever of you!’

      He raised a dark brow, his gaze steady and unflinching. ‘You’re not interested?’

      ‘There’s got to be another way!’ Rachel asserted. ‘How can you sit there and tell me that the best thing would be to turn the Grange into a huge hotel? It’s my home!’

      ‘Not for very much longer!’ Jean-Luc’s voice was clipped. ‘You know as well as I do that the Grange, in its present condition with all of its natural assets, is an ideal site—’

      ‘It isn’t a “site”, as you so callously call it,’ Rachel cut in. She gulped a breath. ‘I’ve lived there ever since my parents were killed—’

      ‘And now dear Aunt Clara is dead and the Grange is your responsibility! You were orphaned at a young age—that is tragic. Car accidents are tragic, death is tragic.’ He lifted his broad shoulders in, it seemed to Rachel, an uncaring shrug. ‘So is bankruptcy.’

      Rachel pushed her plate aside. The mushrooms were good, but suddenly she had no stomach for them. She loved her work. The excitement and challenge of managing a hotel from day to day, when just about anything could happen and often did, gave her more satisfaction than she could say, but this shocking idea, that somehow she and Jean-Luc should have a shared interest—and in the Grange of all places—was difficult to contemplate. She shook her head again. ‘I cannot imagine a worse scenario!’

      ‘Except, perhaps, the one where you sack Naomi and the rest of the staff, pack up, move out and hand over the keys of the Grange to the bank?’ Jean-Luc picked up his wine glass. ‘You find that particular course of action more acceptable, do you?’ There was a tense silence. ‘Are you so naïve?’ Jean-Luc continued remorselessly. ‘What do you imagine the bank will do once they take possession?’

      Rachel glanced down at her lap, avoiding his penetrating gaze. ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead.’

      ‘Well, it’s time you did! They’ll sell to the highest bidder. They won’t be concerned whether it’s split up into apartments or turned into the biggest conference centre in Europe!’

      ‘I haven’t lost it yet!’ Rachel persisted stubbornly. ‘There’s still time.’

      ‘There’s no time. Your aunt used up all the time and left you with nothing but debts,’ Jean-Luc informed her brutally. ‘You will be left with nothing.’

      ‘So, why do you care?’

      Why, indeed? But he did—more than he cared to admit.

      He looked at her, cold and hard and formidable. ‘I don’t. I have been looking for suitable properties in this area for some time. In fact, I was about to close a deal when I heard of your aunt’s death and subsequent problems.’

      ‘Oh! So…so your predatory instincts took over! How extremely fortuitous that the Grange got into difficulties СКАЧАТЬ