Home > Falling for His Proper Mistress(4)

Falling for His Proper Mistress(4)
Author: Tessa Radley

He nodded and raised his glass. “Do you want to toast to the success of our partnership?” The irony was acute.

Two could play that game. Avery reached for the glass on the table behind her and raised it with bravado. “To success!”

Champagne splashed out, almost landing on her yellow silk dress.

“Careful!” Guy gripped her wrist with his free hand and the crisis was averted.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I would’ve hated to have ruined this dress.”

“That didn’t augur well.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Still want to stay?”

In truth, she was ready to run. She’d never admit that. Especially not to him.

“Of course.” She tilted up her chin. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

A fierce and stormy emotion flickered across his face. Then his thumb moved against her wrist, and his hold eased a degree. The frisson of awareness that shot through her was as unwelcome as the knowledge that they’d be working together—far too closely for Avery’s comfort—for the duration of her stay.

It would be an impossible situation.

She raised her hand, his fell away, and she took a gulp of champagne. Then sneezed. “Steady.”

Her eyes were streaming.

“The bubbles always make me sneeze.”

“How unfortunate for a sommelier!”

She wiped her tears away with her fingertips. “That’s what my family thinks, too. It’s one downside of the job.”

“That’s why you’ve barely drunk any tonight—and why you never wanted champagne in the past.”

Arrested by his statement, Avery stared at him. He’d been watching her. For how long? And…why?

How could she work with a man she’d once upon a time hoped she was falling in love with? A man to whom her body unfurled like a sunflower to the sun. A man she now hated.

“Here, let me take that.”

Numbly she opened her hand and relinquished the glass. Guy set it back down on the table behind them.

How could she let Uncle Art down? He’d been the rock in her life. How could she turn her back on him when he needed her?

Avery swallowed. The short answer was, she couldn’t.

“So—” Guy faced her again “—you’re staying then.”

She swallowed her objections. “I can take the heat in the kitchen,” she said rashly, “can you?”

There was a moment of throbbing silence. Then he said softly, “I can take anything you care to dish out.”

“You’re the chef, you’re the expert at dishing out.”

Avery didn’t care if he heard her disillusionment. Between Guy and his friend Jeff they’d shattered the dreams she’d spun around the man in front of her, the man she’d convinced herself was her perfect life partner.

That night Guy had sent Jeff to her for her birthday had made her grow up….

Pushing past him, she said, “Now, I need to go find Matt.”

Three

Day one down…just over three weeks more to endure.

Yet despite her dread about Guy’s presence, Avery had managed to successfully avoid him and her first full day at the Jarrod Ridge Food and Wine Gala had passed in a buzz of excitement. She’d found herself indulging in celebrity spotting like some wide-eyed teenager. There’d been the handsome hero of a popular soap, a pop diva with rainbow-streaked hair and a hunky, tanned tennis star.

In the afternoon, she’d sidled in to listen to the presentation her cousin Matt was giving, and joined him in the trendy sky lounge on the covered rooftop of Jarrod Manor for a too-quick drink afterward.

“This is the kind of world Mom always wanted for you, pumpkin.” Matt stretched his legs and lounged back in the leather armchair. “She was certain you’d be a star.”

Avery wrinkled her nose. “Despite all the classes, I never had any acting talent. I would’ve made an awful beauty queen—too short. And you know I hate being called pumpkin. I’m twenty-seven years old.” But there was no heat in the objection that had already been made a million times before.

Matt chuckled—as she’d known he would. “You really did look like a pumpkin when you arrived to live with us. Chubby and wearing orange dungarees—don’t know why Mom ever thought you’d win any of those baby pageants.”

“Chubby? Oh, you!” But she laughed up into his teasing face. “I was two—hardly a baby. And it’s your fault Aunt Tilly craved a little girl, you were all such hooligans.” As much as the four scruffy boys had overwhelmed her in the beginning, she’d grown to love them all—even her well-meaning aunt. El Dorado, the boutique vineyard her uncle had acquired shortly before her arrival, had become home.

“When do you leave for home?” Her cousins still based themselves at El Dorado—as did she when in California.

“I fly out first thing in the morning.” Matt unfolded himself from the armchair and rose, yawning, to his full height. “I’ve still got to prepare for my meeting tomorrow.”

Avery scrambled to her feet.

“I wish you could stay longer.” A wistful note crept into her voice. It was cowardly wishing Matt would stay to help her cope with Guy. Yet his departure felt like a desertion.

“No chance, pumpkin.” Matt threw an affectionate arm around her shoulders. “It was hard enough taking these two days out my schedule, but it was worth the exposure that today’s talk gave the business.”

“You did great.”

She gave Matt a fierce hug and hoped he hadn’t detected the desperation behind it. Those hopes were dashed as he held her at arm’s length and studied her face.

“Dad will be okay.” All teasing vanished, leaving his expression unexpectedly serious. “Don’t wear yourself down with worry.”

He’d sensed her unease but he’d attributed it to the wrong cause. Immediately guilt constricted her chest. She’d been so busy fretting about Guy, she’d hardly spared a thought for her uncle. Selfish!

Taking a deep breath she said. “Make sure your dad looks after himself. I don’t like that he’s ill.”

“He’s a tough old codger.” Matt gave her a squeeze. “He’ll be fine—you’ll see. Mom will coddle him to death. But I’ll give him your love when I see him tomorrow.”

Over Matt’s arm Avery found herself looking into a pair of stormy eyes. Guy Jarrod. Then the shutters came down, and all expression leached out, leaving her wondering if she’d imagined the flash of emotion.

Ignore him, she commanded herself. He’s not worth the heartache. She hoped she’d be able to follow her own advice in the weeks to come.

Avery made herself glance away from Guy’s blank stare to give her cousin a wobbly smile. “I’ve decided to spoil myself. I’ve booked a massage at the resort spa and I’ll have a soak in a hot tub afterwards. That should guarantee I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

“I suspect you haven’t done enough of that lately.”

“What do you mean?” She stared at her cousin in surprise.

“I’m not going to pry, but you came back from New York looking like a wraith. It was all we could do to stop Mom interrogating you.”

Avery felt herself flush. “You’re joking!”

“We love you, pumpkin. You’re family. If I ever meet the man who put that bruised look in your eyes, I’ll be giving him a few bruises of his own.”

Matt’s tone was light but his eyes were deadly serious. She didn’t dare glance past him to see where Guy was. If Matt knew that Guy had expected her to sleep with his friend, before returning to join the ménage à trois himself, her cousin would be ready to kill him.

She gave a dismissive laugh. “He was nothing!”

“Get over him,” Matt said gruffly.

“Oh, I intend to.” She smiled at him. “When you see me again I’ll be heart-whole and fancy-free. Who knows, later in the week I might go shopping…do a little sightseeing.”

“Or find yourself a hot lover.”

“Matthew!”

“If you’re going to live it up, pumpkin,” Matt grinned down at her, “Aspen is the place to do it. Indulge yourself. No regrets. And, don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated about Dad.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.” She stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek in a gesture of gratitude and affection.

Giving up on wrestling her foolish need to search out Guy, Avery turned her head. To her relief the man who had haunted her nightmares was nowhere to be seen.

The sight of brass letters on the wall announcing Tranquility Spa was enough to ease some of the diabolical tension that had been building ever since Avery’s encounter with Guy yesterday.

The first thing Avery noticed was the calming sound of water as she entered the spa. Water trickled down stone fountains set in wall panels along the reception area. Between the fountains scenic paintings formed vistas of incredible beauty.

Two women were talking behind a long counter carved from pale, polished wood, and one turned as the front door clicked shut.

“Avery?”

The gold badge the woman wore read Melissa Jarrod, Manager. With her long, wavy blond hair and blue eyes there was little resemblance to Guy’s dark hair and metallic, almost black, eyes. Perhaps Melissa Jarrod was a cousin or married to one of his brothers.

Giving a hesitant smile, Avery said, “Yes, I have an appointment for a massage.”

Melissa glanced at the flat computer screen on the desk, and said to the nervous-looking woman beside her, “Rita, would you let Joanie know her client is here? I’m going to leave now, I’m so tired I can barely stand.” With a sweet smile to Avery she said, “Let me show you where your treatment room is.”

Melissa did look pale, Avery thought as she followed the other woman down a corridor where smaller wall fountains were set between wooden doors.

“You’re in the Red Room,” said Melissa. “The saunas and steam rooms are further along. I’d recommend fifteen minutes in one of the steam rooms after your massage, followed by a soak in a hot tub.”

“Sounds fabulous.” Avery had every intention of following that advice.

Melissa pushed the next door along open, and Avery glimpsed an interior painted a shade of welcoming red ochre. A huge seascape of a dramatic sunset dominated one wall, while a dark red massage bed with a soft throw stood in the foreground. Farther back sprawled a large, wood-paneled hot tub with an ice bucket resting in a black wrought-iron stand beside it. Three fat white candles cast a soft glow, adding to the womb-like warmth of the room. “Oh, wow!”

The other woman laughed. “You may have gathered that our mission at Tranquility Spa is to ensure that you relax.”

Avery stepped into the embrace of the warm, sensuous room and gave a sigh of contentment.

“Can I pour you a glass of champagne?”

“No, but I’ll definitely help myself to some of those while I soak.” Avery pointed to the tray of dark chocolate truffles at the side of the tub. “What a heavenly, decadent treat.”

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