glancing towards the entrance to the bar, obviously taking in the presence of the large, concealing plant that stood near their seats, a knowing look in her eyes now as she met Abbie’s innocent gaze.
Jarrett Hunter was looking at her with narrowed eyes too, but for a completely different reason. He was still trying to fit her into a particular niche—and failing utterly! ‘I don’t actually have any other arrangements for dinner this evening,’ he finally said slowly. ‘I just didn’t want to intrude...’
‘How kind of you,’ Abbie said. ‘Alison and I have so much news to catch up on.’
‘...on Alison and Stephen’s honeymoon,’ Jarrett Hunter finished softly, challenge in those golden eyes now.
He had very capably turned the tables on her, trying—and succeeding!—in putting her in a defensive position. But not an irretrievable one—
‘Alison and I have been married almost two weeks; we go home the day after tomorrow—the honeymoon is over!’ Stephen very neatly came to her rescue.
Alison tucked her arm possessively through the crook of his. ‘Only the social part,’ she warned.
‘Take a tip from me, Jarrett,’ Stephen told his friend with an affected groan. ‘Never marry a younger woman!’
Abbie and Alison were both twenty-seven, whereas the two men were probably in their late thirties, though considering they looked athletically fit, their bodies lithe and firm, Stephen’s last remark had to be a joke. And it was one that Abbie and Alison both responded to.
Not so Jarrett Hunter. ‘I never intend marrying at all,’ he drawled arrogantly.
Abbie looked at him with new interest; so the two of them had something in common, after all. She had no intention of ever being married, either. But she had her own reasons for that decision. She wondered what Jarrett Hunter’s were...
‘Why settle for one delicious dessert?’ He scornfully supplied the answer to her question, even as she thought it. ‘When I have a liking for so many?’ he added.
Abbie was beginning actively to dislike him—and his sweeping statements!
‘But I happen to know I like strawberry trifle best,’ Stephen told the other man, with an affectionate grin at Alison’s red hair.
‘Maybe you do like it best,’ Jarrett Hunter accepted in a bored voice. ‘But a constant diet of it could become—tedious. ’
‘You have a sweet tooth, Mr Hunter?’ Abbie put in swiftly as she saw Alison was about to explode indignantly at the insult he had just delivered to her twoweek-old marriage with his double-edged conversation. Not surprisingly, in the circumstances!
Jarrett turned to her with cool golden eyes. ‘No more than the next man—Abbie,’ he returned.
She could see by looking at him that he was a virile man, that he had probably had more than his fair share of women attracted to his arrogant attractiveness. But, considering Alison and Stephen were on their honeymoon, his remark was highly inflammatory.
‘Really?’ Abbie replied consideringly. ‘I don’t have a sweet tooth at all, so I don’t have that particular problem.’ She drew his remarks back to her, and away from the much more volatile Alison; her friend’s red hair was indicative of her fiery nature, and if Jarrett Hunter wasn’t careful he was going to end up floored by Alison’s heated remarks. And that would be a pity, when she and Stephen had obviously enjoyed their honeymoon so far.
That golden gaze travelled the length of her shapely legs, over the sensuous curves of her body so lovingly outlined by the fitted black dress, up to the beauty of her face, surrounded by a dark tumble of long hair. ‘You surprise me, Abbie,’ he murmured dryly.
‘Do I?’ Violet-blue eyes steadily met gold.
‘Well, perhaps not,’ he replied with slow deliberation. ‘I’ve always thought that chocolate éclairs look appetising, until you bite into them and find there’s no substance.’ He gave a grimace, his gaze still holding hers.
Abbie could feel the angry colour rising in her cheeks even as she heard Alison gasp at the force of his remark. He was being deliberately insulting. But then, so was she. In fact, she had probably goaded him into this exchange, still stung by those earlier comments of his that she’d overheard.
‘Thank goodness I save myself the disappointment,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Dinner, people,’ she announced pointedly.
‘Jarrett?’ Stephen prompted, grinning as he had enjoyed the exchange.
That golden gaze once more ran the length of Abbie’s slenderly alluring body, pausing briefly on the curve of her hips and breasts, before once again pausing on the beauty of her face. ‘As long as Abbie doesn’t mind,’ he murmured challengingly. ‘After all, I am being rather forced on her for the evening,’ he added smoothly.
This was the very last thing she wanted, an evening spent in Jarrett’s abrasive company not something she would deliberately wish on herself. And he knew it too, which was probably the reason why he had made the challenge in the first place.
‘You will be Alison and Stephen’s guest, not mine,’ she returned distantly.
Dark brows rose over those golden eyes. ‘In that case—I accept the invitation.’
She had known that he would, known that somehow he couldn’t resist the opportunity of finding out more about her. He no more found her a chocolate éclair without substance than he did a ‘paper-bag job’!
‘You overheard him earlier, didn’t you?’ Alison spoke softly at Abbie’s side as the two women preceded the men into the hotel restaurant, her arm draped loosely through the crook of Abbie’s. ‘You came into the bar and heard what he was saying about—’
‘Who on earth is he?’ Abbie hissed indignantly. ‘I’ve never met such an arrogant, overbearing, pompous, self-opinionated—’
‘You did overhear him.’ Alison giggled gleefully. ‘Isn’t he just unbelievable?’ She glanced back briefly to where the two men strolled along behind them chatting idly together.
‘The man is a dinosaur!’ Abbie returned disgustedly, shaking her head, aware of his golden eyes on her now, and the gentle sway of her hips, as she walked. Her years on the catwalk had given her the confidence not even to falter.
‘Who doesn’t believe in marriage,’ her friend acknowledged happily. ‘The two of you could be kindred spirits!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Alison,’ Abbie protested impatiently. ‘You heard the man; he likes a little taste of every dessert there is going, whereas I—’
‘Don’t have a sweet tooth,’ Alison finished with another giggle. ‘What a marvellous conversation that was,’ she added admiringly.
Abbie frowned at her friend. ‘You didn’t seem to find it so funny when he was being so disparaging about Stephen’s preference for strawberry trifle!’
Alison grinned. ‘So, I’ve never met a misogynist before—’
‘He isn’t a woman-hater, Alison; he devours them!’
