Название: It Started With... Collection
Автор: Miranda Lee
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781474034630
isbn:
‘Oh, I’m not that hard,’ she returned. ‘Not once you get to know me.’ And she flashed him an almost coquettish smile.
Rachel could not believe it. Charlotte was making a play for Justin right in front of her and Eric’s eyes!
But what’s new? she realised bitterly. That was what she’d done with Eric when he’d been engaged to her.
A quiet fury began to simmer within Rachel. Charlotte had seduced Eric away from her, but no way was Rachel going to let Charlotte get her claws into Justin! He might only be her boss but he was far too nice a man for the likes of that alley cat to play with.
‘I hate to interrupt this conversation,’ she piped up with a saccharine smile, ‘but we really must be getting along, Justin. The dinner starts at eight and you promised to meet Mr Wong at the main bar at seven-fifteen. And it’s way past that now.’
‘You’re right. See what I mean? What would I do without her? No doubt we’ll run into each other again during the dinner. Maybe we can even sit at the same table. Mind us a spot if you can. Meanwhile, I must away and meet my—er—meet Mr Wong. And no, don’t ask me who he is, sweetheart,’ he threw at Charlotte, then pressed his index finger to his lips. ‘Client confidentiality, remember.’
‘Who the hell is Mr Wong?’ he whispered to Rachel after a sour-faced Eric grabbed Charlotte’s arm and started steering her forcibly past Reception in the direction of the main conference room, the venue for the dinner.
‘No idea,’ Rachel confessed. ‘I made him up.’
‘But why? The idea is to stay in Eric and Charlotte’s company if we’re to achieve our aim for the night.’ And nodded towards the departing couple’s backs.
‘She was flirting with you,’ Rachel pointed out indignantly.
‘So? That was good, wasn’t it? It’ll make Eric the Mongrel jealous and insecure.’
‘I was afraid you might be liking it.’
‘I was. But not the way you’re thinking. I wouldn’t touch that cold-blooded bitch in a million years. God, Rachel, you don’t know me very well if you’d think that.’
‘But I don’t know you very well, do I? You have an unexpectedly wicked streak in you, Justin McCarthy. Yet before tonight I thought you were…um—er—er…’ She struggled to find a word other than ‘nice’.
‘Staid?’ he suggested drily. ‘Boring?’
‘No! Never boring. Maybe a little staid. No, you’re not really staid, either. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. I guess I just didn’t think you’d ever conceive of something so devious as to make them think we’re lovers even whilst you’re claiming we aren’t. That was incredibly conniving of you, and manipulative.’
‘If you can’t beat ’em, then join ’em, Rachel. People like Eric and Charlotte are devious, and conniving, and manipulative. They’re also shallow and selfish and truly wicked. They don’t care who they hurt or betray. All they care about is themselves and what suits them at the time. If you think I’m the first man Charlotte has flirted with, then think again. She hasn’t been faithful to your Eric, nor he with her. That’s the way they both are.’
‘Maybe, but not everyone is like that, Justin,’ she pointed out, unwilling to embrace the self-destructive philosophy of total cynicism. Isabel had been like that with men for ages, till she met Rafe. And, really, Rachel hadn’t admired that about her one bit. She was a much nicer person now that she was living her life with love and hope in her heart.
‘True,’ Justin said, his gaze softening momentarily on her. ‘Some people are decent and kind. But the two people we were unfortunate enough to fall in love with weren’t. Eric treated you abominably, Rachel. And he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it!’
Rachel stared up into her boss’s bitter blue eyes and realised he wasn’t only talking about Eric. He was talking—and thinking—about his wife. Justin was deeply wounded.
Rachel wanted to ask him about his wife and what she’d done to him, but knew it was not the right time, or the right place. For one thing, his wounds were still way too raw. Maybe there would never be a right time or a right place. Maybe he’d loved her far too much, and would never get over her.
At least she had the comfort of knowing she no longer loved Eric. Seeing him again tonight had at least proved that to her once and for all. He might be successful and superficially handsome, but ‘handsome is as handsome does’, she’d discovered first-hand this evening. He was welcome to the likes of Charlotte. They were made for each other, in her opinion.
‘Promise me you won’t flirt with Charlotte when we finally get to that dinner?’ she asked.
Justin laughed. ‘I promise. But you shouldn’t worry about me, you know, Rachel. I can take care of myself where female vampires are concerned. How are you doing, meeting up with lover-boy again? Does he still turn you on with those smooth, golden looks of his?’
‘God, no.’ She half laughed, half shuddered. ‘No, not at all.’
‘I suspect he still has the hots for you.’
She blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
Justin frowned. ‘You think it’s ridiculous for a man to have the hots for you, especially the way you look tonight?’
‘Well, no… I mean…yes… I mean… Look, I still can’t compare with Charlotte. She’s one seriously sexy lady.’
‘She’s about as sexy to me as a dead skunk.’
Rachel was startled. ‘Really?’
‘Really. But to ease your concern I will consign all of my flirting for the rest of the evening to yours truly. Make Eric the Mongrel’s teeth gnash some more.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Mmm. Twenty to eight. Look, let’s go to that main bar you mentioned, where I’m supposed to be meeting the mysterious Mr Wong. We can fill in the time till eight with a couple of pre-dinner drinks.’
Rachel bit her bottom lip. ‘Oh, I—er—made that up about the main bar as well. I have no idea if there is such a place.’
Justin grinned. ‘And you said I had an unexpectedly wicked streak in me. I think you’re the one who has the unexpectedly wicked streak, Ms Witherspoon. Come on, we’ll go ask at Reception where the bars are located. They have to have at least one or two in a place this size.’
They had three, one connected with the a` la carte restaurant on the mezzanine level, one on the first floor in the disco-till-you-drop room and a third up on the top floor, which had a more sedate dance floor and a view to die for, or so the clerk behind the desk said. It also wasn’t open to the public, just the clientele of Sunshine Gardens and their guests.
Ten minutes later they were sitting at a table on an open-air terrace, sipping Margaritas by moonlight and drinking in that view to die for, which was spectacular, even at night. Most of the buildings along the foreshore were lit up, outlining the curved sweep of the coastline for as far as the eye could see. The night air was still and balmy, with Rachel’s bare arms and shoulders not proving a problem.
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