for his levity. ‘Okay, so I accept I’ve rather messed things up for you this weekend, but I’m sure that with your looks and apparent charm—’ after all, he had to have something to have acquired four girlfriends in the first place! ‘—you can easily find another woman to take to Paris!’ Most women she knew would jump at the chance—and not just because there was a trip to the French capital on offer.
Much as she hated to admit it, Jack Beauchamp was extremely attractive to look at, and he did possess a lazy charm that made her feel totally feminine. Not that she was in the least charmed, she told herself firmly; the man was just an accomplished flirt.
‘A bit short notice, don’t you think?’ he parried.
Mattie shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage to think of something.’
‘So you think I have looks and charm?’ he enquired.
‘As far as some women are concerned!’ she retorted. Heaven forbid he should gain the impression she found him the least bit attractive.
Even if she did …
It would be very hard for any woman not to acknowledge that he was extremely good-looking. It was just his having four girlfriends at the same time that was so unattractive. Just! As far as Mattie was concerned, especially after the Richard incident, it was totally unacceptable.
‘But you’ve very effectively put an end to all that, Mattie,’ he reminded her.
So her plan had worked, after all!
She shook her head. ‘That doesn’t mean I have to take their place as an act of appeasement!’
He chuckled softly. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you should sleep with me while we’re in Paris, Mattie—’
‘I told you, I am not going to Paris with you!’ she told him with firm finality.
While, at the same time, her imagination ran amuck with visions of Jack Beauchamp and herself, locked languidly together, their naked bodies passionately entwined as they kissed and caressed each other …
‘I doubt we would do much sleeping if we were to share a bedroom anywhere, Mattie,’ Jack’s murmured comment interrupted her intimate imaginings.
Mattie looked at him sharply, her blush deepening to embarrassment as she wondered if some of her inner thoughts had been visible on her face. She sincerely hoped not!
She swallowed hard, avoiding that warm dark gaze now. ‘I don’t see what the problem is with your going to Paris on your own,’ she dismissed scathingly. ‘Surely you can do without some adoring female in tow for one weekend?’ she derided. ‘Besides, you said it’s all going to be your family there, anyway—’
‘And Thom’s. My sister’s fiancé,’ he explained at Mattie’s puzzled glance. ‘Thom’s parents will be there. Also his sister.’
Mattie hesitated. The way he made that last statement, the deliberateness of his tone, seemed to imply—
‘Not another one!’ she sighed disgustedly; really, did the man have no scruples whatsoever? On the evidence she had seen so far, obviously not!
‘Not as far as I’m concerned, no,’ he told her dryly.
Mattie’s gaze narrowed at his claim. ‘But Thom’s sister has other ideas …?’
Jack nodded. ‘It’s completely unreciprocated, Mattie, I can assure you,’ he told her wryly. ‘But as Sharon is Thom’s sister, it’s rather an awkward situation. Short of actually telling her I’m just not interested, which would make things very difficult for everyone—I thought that if I turned up in Paris with a female in tow—’
‘Thanks very much!’ Mattie protested.
‘You weren’t my original choice,’ he reminded her.
No, either Sally, Cally, Sandy, or Tina had been that. But as Mattie, with one of her impulsive actions, had put paid to any of them going to Paris with him—!
‘What’s wrong with this Sharon?’ she prompted interestedly.
‘I’m too much of a gentleman to say,’ Jack returned smoothly.
Just as well she wasn’t taking another sip of her wine when he said that! Gentleman, indeed!
Mattie shook her head. ‘I have a business to run, I can’t just disappear off to Paris for three days—’
‘Four,’ Jack corrected evenly. ‘And Friday and Monday are bank holidays,’ he reasoned. ‘So it will only be for the Saturday. I’m sure you must take time off; who looks after the shop then?’
She didn’t very often take holidays, but when she did she always called on her best friend Sam from their university days. Sam was married with a young baby now, but she loved to keep her hand in and work in the shop if she had the chance. Except Mattie really didn’t want to take this particular holiday!
‘It doesn’t matter how many days it is—I’m not going!’ Mattie repeated firmly.
‘No?’ He raised dark brows.
Mattie took a desperate swallow of her wine, managing to avoid choking herself this time, although the warmth of the alcohol did nothing to fill the cold hollow she could feel in the pit of her stomach.
Her deliberate act—an act Jack Beauchamp knew to be deliberate!—in changing those cards on the flowers he’d sent to the four women in his life had been a really stupid, unprofessional thing to do. Something else Jack Beauchamp was well aware of. As he was also aware he could make serious professional trouble for her if he chose to do so …
Blackmail. The man was using blackmail on her. A crime as serious—if not more so—than the one she had committed.
But that was the important thing here—the one she had committed …
Deliberately. Not cold-bloodedly. She had been too indignant, on behalf of those four unsuspecting women—as well as for herself, she admitted now—for it ever to be called that! But she had definitely acted with malice aforethought.
But that surely wasn’t punishable, courtesy of a weekend in Paris with this man—
What was she saying? A weekend in Paris with Jack Beauchamp wasn’t a punishment. At least, not one that any sane woman would see as punishment … The man was gorgeous, charming, so sexy he made her toes curl to look at him. Punishment! Most women would leap at the chance to go to Paris with him for the weekend.
Even her, if she were honest with herself …
She avoided his teasing gaze, moistening dry lips. ‘What would I tell my mother?’ Oh, Mattie, she inwardly chided; she knew she wasn’t in the least sophisticated, but she could at least try to act as if she were. What would her mother say, indeed!
Jack seemed to give the question serious thought, surprisingly no mockery in his expression as he did so. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that your mother doesn’t know I’m the greedy pig you were talking about yesterday?’ he finally responded.
Once
