‘Because I don’t want Celeste Campbell to get wind of it, that’s why!’ Byron snarled.
Jade raised her eyebrows. She often wondered what had happened between her father and Celeste Campbell to make their relationship so vitriolic on his side, and continuingly vengeful on hers. Celeste was, in fact, Jade’s aunt, being her mother’s half-sister. Her mother, Irene, had been Stewart Campbell’s first-born child, but his wife had passed away within weeks of Irene being born and the widower Campbell had subsequently remarried and had two more children, Celeste and Damian.
Jade found the antagonism between her father and Celeste Campbell quite perplexing. The ancient feud between their fathers, David Whitmore and Stewart Campbell, was well known, though not the reason behind it. Something to do with an opal, she had heard once, a very valuable one which had disappeared or something.
Whatever, after the two men passed away, her parents’ marriage had seemed to heal the rift between the families to a degree. Enough, anyway, for the old animosity to die down to nothing but normal competition between business people who shared a common trade. Apparently, however, when Celeste had taken control of Campbell Jewels about ten years ago, she’d found cause to resurrect the old feud between the Campbells and Whitmores.
It was a mystery all right and one which she didn’t think she’d ever solve. Her father was not about to confide in her. Neither was Celeste Campbell. Maybe they just hated each other’s guts. Or, more likely, Jade’s mother had stirred up some trouble. Irene had bad-mouthed Celeste every chance she got.
‘I doubt Ms Campbell could do much more to Whitmore’s than she’s been doing,’ Jade commented wryly.
‘You don’t give an enemy any advantage,’ her father snapped.
‘But why is she your enemy, Father? What did you do to her, or vice versa? I’ve always wanted to know.’
‘I do not wish to discuss this topic at this juncture, thank you, Jade. Kyle doesn’t want to hear our family dirty linen aired, I’m sure.’
Dirty linen? That sounded intensely personal and far darker than anything she’d been imagining.
Jade stared at her father for a second before recovering. ‘I’m sure Kyle would like to be acquainted with the nature of the competition between Campbell’s and Whitmore’s. He needs to know what he’s up against.’
‘He already knows what he’s up against. Celeste Campbell is a conniving, ambitious, vengeful bitch who will stop at nothing to ruin me. There’s no more to be said!’
Melanie’s entering the room at that precise moment to announce dinner was a frustration to Jade. For there was a lot more to be said. The frown on Kyle’s face showed he agreed with her. Maybe he was even having second thoughts about the difficult job he was taking on. Jade suspected that if the family had had to rely on the profits from Whitmore Opals over the past few years they would be in deep financial straits. Fortunately, during the good years, both Grandfather Whitmore and her own father had diversified their investments into property and blue-chip stocks and shares.
Not that Jade had to rely on her family—or her father—for money any more. When she’d turned twenty-one last year, she’d inherited a substantial income from a trust her grandmother had set up for her before she was even born. This had been added to with her mother’s recent estate, which included a lot of valuable jewellery.
Unhappy about taking anything from her mother, Jade had left the jewels to languish in the family safe. Thinking about them now, she decided she would give them all to Auntie Ava. The poor dear had to ask Byron for every single cent, her big brother having been made executor of her inheritance till she married, a most unsatisfactory arrangement for any self-respecting female. No wonder she buckled under his will all the time. She would advise Ava to sell some of the jewellery and do something with the proceeds. Go to a proper art school. Or take off on a world cruise. Who knew? Maybe she’d even meet her Prince Charming if she got out and about. And maybe she’d lose some weight!
‘This way, Mr Armstrong,’ Melanie was directing their guest in her cool, slightly imperious manner. ‘I hope you like lamb...’
Jade was left to help her father struggle to his feet. ‘Here, lean on me, Pops,’ she offered.
‘So it’s “Pops” now, is it?’ he frowned. ‘What happened to “Father dear”? Or was that only to impress our visitor?’
‘Naturally,’ she grinned, and hoisted her father’s arm around her shoulders. He grunted with real pain when his weight shifted across his bad leg.
‘I’ll bet you signed yourself out of that hospital too soon, didn’t you?’ Jade accused.
‘Bloody hospitals should be banned. Torture chambers, all of them.’
Jade laughed.
‘You have a nice laugh, daughter, do you know that?’
‘You certainly haven’t told me before. Watch the edge of that coffee-table!’
They watched it together as she manoeuvred Byron into clear territory. The drawing-room was rather cluttered with a myriad antiques and expensive knickknacks.
‘You’re strong, aren’t you?’ Byron commented with surprise in his voice. ‘You have broad shoulders. Must take after your father.’
‘Part of what you’re feeling is shoulder pads,’ she said, not sure how to take this shift in the conversation. If she didn’t know better, she might think her father was trying to make up with her after their last row, not to mention his earlier rudeness.
‘I can manage by myself now,’ he said curtly, as though embarrassed by his conciliatory behaviour and taking it back. ‘Hand me my cane.’
She did. Smiling.
He caught the smile and smiled back.
Jade’s heart contracted. Why did she love him so much when he was such a cantankerous bastard, and when he lived his life by typically male standards? Did he honestly think she believed that one incident had been his one and only transgression with other women while her mother was alive? Good God, just look at him! Fifty years old with a bung leg and a scowling face and he’d still stop most women dead in their tracks at a single glance. His body was still hard, his head still full of hair. And those hard blue eyes were so damned sexy it was sinful.
‘You’re a good girl,’ he said. ‘Underneath. And you look very nice tonight.’
Jade’s smile widened.
‘What’s the private joke?’ he demanded to know.
‘It was the underneath part. I still haven’t got a bra on, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t know. And neither would any other man looking at you in that rig-out, which is exactly how it should be. The only man who should see a woman’s bare breasts is her husband!’
‘I’ll keep that in mind, Pops.’
Jade resisted telling her father that the last thing she was ever going to have was a husband. Marriage, in her books, was not the key to eternal happiness. She couldn’t deny men filled a necessary niche, every once in a while. But as a daily diet?
Good God, no. Marriage was not for her. No way. She did her own thing, ran her own race, thank you very much. Imagine being married to someone like Mr Cool. In no time, he would be telling her what to wear, how to act, how to vote, even! Men like him couldn’t seem to help taking on the role of bossy-boots. The poor darlings actually thought they knew best, that the world would stop spinning if they didn’t spin it personally.
No, she was not interested in marrying Kyle Armstrong. She simply wanted to sleep with him. There! She could admit it now and not tremble with shock. And if she could wangle a position for herself at Whitmore Opals at the same time,