“I’ve been transported to a movie set,” Marlo blurted, as she gazed around the room with huge eyes, her pink mouth puckered into a little bow of astonishment.
“Glad you like it.” He put the tray onto a vast ottoman, gestured for them to sit down. “I want to personally thank you. The guests raved about the food. I gave your cards to several individuals. I’m sure you’ll be getting calls. This crowd loves to entertain.”
“And just what kind of ‘crowd’ is that?” Marlo asked.
He smiled at her. “A horsey crowd. Clients. Friends of the family. The people my father and grandfather deal with. Studs, you know.”
Marlo’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t notice that many good-looking, younger men in that group. Ow!” Then she glared at Lucy, who’d kicked her in the ankle.
Hammond spewed coffee back into his cup and burst out laughing. “Not that kind of stud. The horse kind. Stallions, standing at stud. My father and grandfather have owned a lot of good mares over the years. That’s how Hammond Stables got started—with brood mares, very expensive ones, and valuable stallions. We’re breeders. A lot of prizewinners have come out of our barn.”
Marlo’s face grew so red that Jake thought it might ignite. She didn’t burst into flames but it was obviously a very close call. Jake realized that he liked a woman who blushed.
Dying on the spot would have been useful for hiding her embarrassment but Marlo couldn’t manage it, here in gorgeous Jake Hammond’s library. She considered crawling under the rug but decided tough it out. Fortunately, the man was obviously a well-bred gentleman who didn’t make a big deal of her blunder.
Marlo liked that. In fact, there weren’t many things about Jake Hammond that she didn’t like. He came eerily close to fulfilling the requirements of her youthful list of romantic qualifications. Too bad he was already taken. By what she had deduced, Sabrina, Randall and Alfred already considered the union a done deal.
It was just as well. She was a poor match for the wealthy, refined man before her.
Lucy filled in the conversational gaps while Marlo gathered her wits about her again. They were talking about training horses when she finally felt confident enough to enter the discussion.
“It’s something I enjoy, but I don’t have enough time in my day to be as active as I’d like,” Jake was saying. “I prefer working with the animals, but the buyers come first. Without them, we’d have no reason to raise horses in the first place.”
“How did you learn to do it?” Marlo asked.
“From my grandfather. I was attached to his side like a tick to a dog when I was young. And what he didn’t teach me, my father did. The Hammond family has been raising horses for generations, so maybe I learned by osmosis.” He smiled and his eyes did that thing again that made Marlo’s heart flutter. She almost wished he’d quit doing whatever it was that was making her have this reaction. No one like Jake would be interested in a girl like her.
Lucy gave a mouselike squeak as she looked at her watch. “Marlo, I have to get home. I promised I’d call my brother tonight, and it’s getting late, even on the West Coast.”
“You are welcome to use the phone in the library.”
“I’m supposed to give him some phone numbers and addresses that I have on my computer at home. I’d better get going.”
Marlo started to rise from her chair but Lucy waved her back. “No use both of us leaving.”
“But we drove together,” Marlo protested.
“I can call Marlo a cab,” Jake offered, “if you need to leave in a hurry.”
“Good idea. Thanks so much. Marlo, honey, call me in the morning.” Without so much as a goodbye, Lucy shot out of the library. In moments, they heard the van fire up and pull away.
Marlo wanted to strangle Lucy with her bare hands, she decided, as her means of escape roared away. She knew exactly what Lucy was doing—giving her extra time with Jake, because she assumed he was a perfect fit for the List. Well, it wasn’t going to work. The List indicated that the ideal man should “earn a good living” not be preposterously wealthy. She didn’t know how to relate to people with money like that, even though he made it easier than she’d expected.
“More coffee?” Jake bent near her, carafe in hand. She smelled the woodsy cologne he wore and saw the fine weave of the arm of his jacket.
“I’d better not. I won’t sleep all night.” Not that she would, anyway, after this heady experience. She turned her eyes up toward his and became conscious of how close he was. “I have to apologize for my friend.”
He stepped back, poured himself another cup and sat down. “Why?”
“Because those ‘names and numbers’ she had to give her brother were probably fictional.”
He cocked his head to one side and a lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. Couldn’t the man be unattractive from any angle at all?
“Lucy is playing matchmaker. I hope you’ll excuse her. Sometimes she just doesn’t think things through. Now, if you’ll call me a cab…”
“Matchmaker?” He sounded amused, even pleased. To Marlo’s amazement, he didn’t appear to think the idea was ludicrous, just entertaining. She supposed that was a compliment, but it didn’t undo her friend’s machinations. Maybe she wouldn’t wait until morning to throttle Lucy; perhaps she should stop at her house on the way home.
“Besides, there’s no hurry. Where do you live?”
Marlo gave him the address.
“It’s not far. I’ll take you home myself.”
“Oh, I couldn’t… A cab is fine…really.”
“Sure you could.” He pulled off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves as if he were about to go to work. His forearms were tanned and muscular. He wasn’t a stranger to physical work, Marlo noted. “I’ve had enough coffee now to keep me awake until the New Year. No use taking a cab and wasting my alertness.” He looked so appealing, so boyish and sincere that he was virtually irresistible.
Everything seemed to make worse the tumble of emotions coursing through her. Then why did she feel such an unwelcome attraction to Jake?
“I’m dying of embarrassment, you know. I don’t want you to bother.”
“No need. I’ll enjoy getting out for a drive.” He picked up the plate of cheesecakes. “Now that you know you’re going home soon, do you want to have one of these?”
Marlo’s stomach growled a response. She clamped a hand over her belly but it was too late. Hammond had heard it.
“I thought so. You were too busy to put any food in your own mouth.”
“That’s a little like stealing,” Marlo pointed out. “It’s your food. You bought it.”
“Then help me eat it.” He sank back into the leather chair in which he’d been sitting. Framed in dark leather and the faultless white of his shirt, he could have been posing for one of the handsome portraits that lined the staircase gallery.
Oh, why not? Marlo told herself. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. What was more, she knew just how good the Divas’ cheesecakes were.
“Even my father said your food was an enormous hit at the party.”
“‘Even’ your father?”
“His approval doesn’t come easily.” He paused a long time before adding, “Life has made