in love with him?
She heaved a big sigh, unable to deceive herself any longer. She loved Nik, but the problem of No Ordinary Boy apart, there could never be a future for them together. Nik wasn’t a man interested in for ever, and she was a woman who wouldn’t settle for anything less.
Impasse.
Better to just leave things as they were. She would get over this in time. Wouldn’t she…?
Not that there seemed much chance of her having that time when she looked out the window the next morning and found, not just the one reporter and photographer outside, but a dozen or more, cameras at the ready, at the moment all focused on the tall man getting out from behind the wheel of a dark green Jaguar.
Nik!
His expression was grim as he strode through the reporters and photographers, looking to neither left nor right, totally ignoring the barrage of questions being thrown at him, although it was impossible to stop the cameras flashing away.
In the circumstances, Jinx felt she had no option but to at least open the door to him, stepping out of the way as Nik turned to shut the door in the face of the more determined reporters who had followed him down the pathway. He looked cool and assured in a black shirt and faded denims, dark hair still looking wet from where he had taken a shower.
Which was more than could be said for Jinx. Having only just got out of bed, she was wearing a silky peach-coloured robe over a matching nightgown, her hair still tousled from sleep, her face completely make-upless.
‘What on earth is going on?’ she gasped. ‘Where did they all come from?’ She gave an airy wave in the direction of the front of the house.
Nik’s expression remained grim. ‘Have you seen the newspapers this morning?’
‘Not yet. Mrs Holt usually brings it with her when she comes in the mornings, and it isn’t time for her to arrive yet.’ Which wasn’t surprising, considering it was only eight o’clock in the morning!
He gave a shake of his head. ‘If she has any sense, she won’t bother!’ he rasped. ‘How long will it take you to collect up the things you and your father might need for at least a couple of days away?’
‘Five minutes,’ she answered dazedly. ‘What was in the newspapers, Nik?’ she asked as some of her normal composure started to come back to her.
‘Actually, so far it’s just the one—the one the initial reporter works for, presumably. But that won’t remain the case after today. And you can definitely say goodbye to any idea of anonymity; there’s a photograph to accompany the article speculating whether or not you’re J. I. Watson!’ He looked pointedly out of the window at the people milling around outside the house, obviously just waiting for a glimpse of the famous but elusive author.
Jinx put her hands up to her face as the enormity of what was happening washed over her. ‘This is awful,’ she groaned. ‘Just awful!’
‘Yes.’ Nik didn’t even attempt to soften the blow. ‘You do realize you should have got out of here last night when Stazy asked you to?’
Her hands dropped back to her sides, her face pale now as she looked up at him. ‘Don’t you mean, when you asked me to?’ she challenged.
‘Me. Stazy. What the hell difference does it make who suggested it?’ he growled. ‘You should have damn well taken the opportunity to get out of here! As it is, the house is now surrounded like a three-ring circus!’
She could see that—she also had no idea how her father was going to react to all this when he came down in half an hour or so.
Her father.
No matter what she might personally want, she knew it was her father she had to think of now. And getting him away from here, from reporters and photographers, had to be her first priority.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she said briskly.
Nik raised surprised brows at her sudden acquiescence. ‘Now you start being cooperative!’
Jinx felt the colour warm her cheeks. ‘I had no idea it was going to—to escalate like this!’ she defended impatiently.
‘No, in your naivety, you probably didn’t.’
Her eyes flashed deeply violet. ‘We aren’t all as world-weary and cynical as you, you know!’
Nik became suddenly still, looking down at her with hooded eyes. ‘Is that how you see me?’ he asked slowly. ‘As world-weary and cynical?’
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