Unfinished business…
There was a terrible truth in those words. A terribly seductive truth. She wanted this man, more deeply than she’d ever wanted any other, and the primitive tug to take what he was offering before she moved on, eroded the reasoning that it would just be another brief affair in his playboy life.
She would be hurt when he finished it, as he undoubtedly would when his pleasure in her waned, but at least she wouldn’t die regretting not having had this experience with him. On the other hand, submission did not sit well with her. Let Jake sweat on her decision! It would be good to know how strong his desire for her was.
‘Do what you like,’ she tossed at him, as though she didn’t care. ‘I have to go and tell Byron I can’t marry him.’
Jake watched her stiff-backed exit, barely controlling the cave-man urge to catch her, throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his car. Merlina Rossi hadn’t just burrowed under his skin. She was tearing at his guts. And not conceding him anything, despite the fact she had definitely—definitely—been his for the taking a few minutes ago. If Harold hadn’t come in…
But now she’d retreated to their old battle-ground, meeting his challenge and dumping it back in his lap. Though at least he’d won something from her. The intolerable engagement with his grandfather was over. He’d blown that perverted little enterprise apart. It was just as well Harold had come in and caught them at it. Harold was an unimpeachable witness. No way could Merlina make out she hadn’t been complicit in what had happened.
Not that she would.
Too much integrity in her bones.
It would be completely against her grain not to deliver the full measure of whatever she took on—work, marriage, coming out of a cake. That kind of absolute commitment made the thought of having sex with her even more exciting. He’d had a taste of what it would be like. He wanted more. Much more.
Spurred into pursuing this aim, Jake went looking for Harold, finding him in the kitchen, overseeing preparations for dinner. He requested a private word and explained the need to expedite Ms Rossi’s departure from her ex-fiancé’s home tonight.
‘Are you sure this is Ms Rossi’s wish?’ Harold queried, frowning over Jake’s plan.
‘I advised it and promised I’d execute it,’ Jake stated unequivocally, giving the butler a wise man to man look. ‘It is a matter of sensitivity, as you must understand, Harold. Ms Rossi is in the library, breaking off her engagement to my grandfather. Once it’s done…’
‘Yes, I do see where you’re coming from, Mr Jake, but—’ he shook his head ‘—I’m not sure this hasty decision would meet with Mr Byron’s approval.’
‘A clean cut is always best, Harold,’ Jake asserted.
‘I suppose the packing up can always be undone, should it not be desired after all,’ the older man mused. ‘And it would expedite matters if events turn that way…’
How else could they turn, Jake thought impatiently. Obviously the butler just didn’t like taking these orders from him, even though he must know they were appropriate in the circumstances.
‘Very well,’ Harold finally decided. ‘If you’ll unlock your car, Mr Jake, I’ll have Ms Rossi’s belongings carried out to it. I will be very sorry to see her go. Such a lovely, lively young woman…’
‘Who didn’t mean to make a mistake but did,’ Jake cut in, wanting action, not more words.
It raised the older man’s eyebrows. ‘I imagine it would be very easy for a young lady to make a mistake with you, Mr Jake.’
‘The mistake was with my grandfather, not me,’ Jake retorted in some exasperation.
The butler had the last word. ‘Well, sir, that is a matter of opinion. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and supervise the packing.’
The clinch in the main reception had not been a mistake! Jake churned over Harold’s point of view as he went outside to unlock the Ferrari. He was very fond of his grandfather. He hoped the old man would not be too offended by his actions tonight. All was fair in love and war, and he’d given fair warning that he considered Melissa Rossi his woman right at the initial meeting between her and his grandfather at the birthday party.
If Merlina had not been in such a perverse mood, throwing her independence in his face, and his grandfather backing her up because it suited him, this whole affair would not have got off the ground. He was simply getting her back where she belonged. With him. No mistake about that!
Although he had to concede his grandfather might very well be besotted, given that he had proposed marriage. On the other hand, how could any of his marriages be taken seriously when none of them had lasted beyond a few years?
The discomfiting idea that Merlina might have made the spring/autumn relationship work flitted through his mind. She was a very strong-minded woman. And his grandfather was eighty years old. Maybe he’d seen this as his sunset marriage and would be very aggrieved with Jake for breaking it up.
‘Damn, damn, damn!’ he muttered, realising his action tonight might well have landed him in a very thorny place. Best he face up to it, too. No whizzing Merlina away without speaking to his grandfather first—find out how troubled the waters were and do his best not to pour oil onto them.
He took a few deep calming breaths of the cooler night air as he waited by the Ferrari to load whatever had to be loaded in the trunk. It couldn’t be much, unless the shopping spree at Double Bay had been over-the-top extravagant. He’d cram it in anyway, leaving Merlina no excuse to come back.
Impatience pumped through him, making it seem like forever before his grandfather’s valet—the invaluable Vincent—appeared, carrying an overnight case and a bunch of boutique bags. ‘Is that all of it?’ Jake asked, moving quickly to open the trunk.
‘Of course, sir. I never miss anything,’ Vincent answered loftily.
‘Well, you’ll be missing Ms Rossi very shortly,’ Jake slung at him, out of temper with the situation.
‘That will be a great pity,’ Vincent remarked, stowing the bags, then stepping back to give a reproving look. ‘Mr Byron has been very happy since Ms Rossi has come to stay.’
‘It’s not even been three days!’ Jake snapped, inwardly rebelling against the guilt building up in him. He was not used to feeling guilty about anything.
‘At Mr Byron’s age, every happy day is precious. Perhaps you are too young to appreciate that, sir.’
Having delivered this insidious hit, Vincent turned on his heel and marched back into the mansion.
Jake slammed the trunk shut, locked the Ferrari again and strode after him. Merlina had certainly had time enough to break the news to his grandfather. Why she was still lingering in the library raised a flurry of a gut-churning questions. He had to get in there and set everything straight, make sure she came away with him tonight.
A sense of urgency drove him into entering the library without knocking. His grandfather was propped against the front of his mahogany desk, looking relaxed and in control of the situation. Merlina was sitting back in the large leather reading chair, looking equally at ease with her legs crossed and her arms draped loosely on the arm-rests. It instantly struck Jake there was no tension in the air, not a smidgeon of distress. It was as though they were simply enjoying a chat together.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.
The curt tone raised his grandfather’s eyebrows. ‘I might ask the same question of you, Jake? You come here on the pretence of needing help at work…’
‘I did miss Merlina at work.’
The vehement claim provoked an ironic little smile. ‘No doubt you did. Nevertheless, does that excuse applying all your dynamic sex