As that anonymous letter had already stated, she was her mother’s daughter too!
No, she wasn’t, Jaz decided just as firmly. Her mother had been flighty and irresponsible, but most of all self-centred; none of which Jaz believed herself to be.
‘But you didn’t properly answer my question,’ she prompted Beau pointedly.
He gave her a brief grin. ‘No, I didn’t, did I?’
And he wasn’t going to do so, either, his tone clearly implied.
Oh, well, if he didn’t want to talk about himself, that was his choice, Jaz shrugged inwardly. Although he was singularly different from any other man she knew if that really were the case; on the few dates she had accepted over the years those men couldn’t seem to talk about anything else but themselves!
Date? Having a meal at the local pub with Beau Garrett couldn’t be considered a date. She—
‘What are you thinking about now?’ Beau gave her a sideways glance as he drove the short distance to the pub.
‘Nothing,’ she dismissed, warm colour in her cheeks; there was no way she could tell this man what she had been thinking.
She still had no idea whether Beau Garrett was married or not. But she did know that, even if he wasn’t, she certainly wasn’t the type of woman to attract him. He was much older, not just because he was aged in his late thirties or early forties, but because he had far more experience of life than her. His arrogantly aristocratic good looks put him well out of her league. And for years he had been at the centre of the world of television, surrounded by beautiful and sophisticated women. Jaz well knew that, despite his earlier teasing words, she had neither of those attributes.
‘You aren’t having dinner with a married man, if that’s what’s bothering you,’ Beau drawled derisively.
‘How did you do that?’ she gasped.
‘It really wasn’t that difficult, Jaz,’ he assured her mockingly. ‘You asked me the other day whether my “family” would be joining me.’ He gave a dismissive shrug, turning the Range Rover into the pub car park before turning off the engine to turn in his seat, his expression grim. ‘I was married once, but that was over years ago,’ he bit out harshly. ‘I haven’t been a monk since, but there’s no one currently in my life.’
‘You really don’t need to tell me any of this.’ Jaz couldn’t quite meet his gaze, her cheeks coloured hotly now.
‘No, I don’t,’ he acknowledged abruptly, opening the door and getting out of the vehicle. ‘But I thought you might like to know anyway,’ he added scornfully. ‘Bearing in mind your warnings that this is a small village and people like to talk.’
Jaz followed slowly. She had wanted to know his marital status, certainly didn’t want to have dinner with a married man, even as innocently as this was; there had been enough talk about her family over the years without her adding to the gossip. But it somehow felt uncomfortable to know that a man as sophisticated as Beau had been all too aware of her misgivings.
She could comfort herself by claiming she was out of practise in these things, but as she had never been in practise in the first place…!
‘I must seem extremely unsophisticated to you,’ she muttered as the two of them walked towards the warmth of the pub.
‘Refreshingly naïve,’ Beau corrected lightly, reaching forward to open the door for her.
For naïve read gauche and silly, Jaz accepted heavily as she stepped into the tastefully lit and furnished pub, a glowing warmth giving off by the log fire at one end of the room.
Beau looked around him interestedly. ‘I didn’t know places like this really existed,’ he murmured appreciatively.
‘Ye Olde Country Pub.’ Jaz nodded smilingly. ‘I’m told that the beer’s quite good too,’ she added derisively.
‘Hey, give me a break; I’ve lived in London for the last thirty-nine years!’ Beau chided as they made their way through the crowded room to a table closer to the fire.
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