‘I’m sure Alison and Stephen are more than ready to disappear after this interruption to their honeymoon.’
Abbie delayed answering him as she smiled her thanks at the young man who had just returned her jacket and overcoat to her, the latter an expensive copy of a sable—she couldn’t stand the thought of wearing a real fur that had once covered some poor luckless animal’s body, but the icy Canadian winter called for warmth as well as comfort.
She wrapped the ankle-length coat about her before releasing her hair from the confines of its collar, turning to smile coolly at Jarrett. ‘As you can see by this coat,’ she commented, turning up the collar to keep her neck warm, ‘I’m not a guest at this hotel.’
He looked deeply irritated by this turn of events, scowling darkly. ‘Then perhaps I can see you back to the hotel you are staying at?’ he grated.
‘There’s no need,’ she dismissed, turning to hug first Alison and then Stephen. ‘It’s been lovely seeing you both. And dinner was lovely, too. I’ll return the compliment when we’re all back in London,’ she added, before at last turning back to Jarrett Hunter, holding out her hand in formal parting. ‘It was nice to meet you, Mr Hunter.’ Politeness demanded that she say at least that much!
His mouth twisted, the golden eyes full of scepticism as he took hold of the hand she held out so graciously. ‘Was it?’ he returned with dry derision, obviously not fooled by her politeness for a minute.
She gave a short nod of confirmation. ‘It’s always interesting to meet someone else from home on one’s travels, Mr Hunter,’ she returned noncommittally, pointedly removing her hand from his when he made no effort to release her.
He looked at her sharply. ‘If you miss home so much, perhaps you shouldn’t do so much—travelling.’
She met his gaze unflinchingly, not in the least sure what he meant by that remark—except that it had somehow sounded like a put-down! ‘I go where I’m needed,’ she clipped. ‘Now I really do have to go.’
‘I said I would like to see you home,’ Jarrett repeated with soft intent. ‘It’s late, and you shouldn’t go alone—’
‘But I’m not going alone, Mr Hunter, I have a car waiting for me outside,’ she said, the edge of the resistance she was feeling at his persistence creeping into her voice. For goodness’ sake, couldn’t he understand? She didn’t want his company, back to her hotel, or anywhere else for that matter!
His mouth tightened, a nerve pulsing in his jaw, his eyes suddenly pure molten gold. ‘In that case, I’ll walk you to your car.’ And without waiting for her agreement, or otherwise, he took a firm grasp of her arm, almost frogmarching her through the lobby.
Abbie turned briefly to give Alison and Stephen a last wave goodbye, Alison giving her a puzzled stare, Stephen frowning.
Which wasn’t surprising, when Jarrett was almost dragging her out of the hotel!
Abbie came to an abrupt halt on the pavement outside, her car already parked there waiting for her departure. ‘You’re behaving very—strangely, Mr Hunter,’ she snapped, releasing herself from his vice-like grip as she turned to face him.
‘I’m behaving strangely!’ he returned incredulously, eyes gleaming golden in the lamplight that shone from the front of the hotel.
Whistler was a small community that had grown into existence mainly because of the wonderful skiing conditions on Whistler Mountain, and its near neighbour, Blackcomb. The village itself had been designed more like a Swiss village, with double-storey chalet-type buildings. The hotels that thrived in the area had also been built to reflect this uniqueness, and at the moment Christmas lights still adorned trees and buildings. It was almost like a fairy-tale—and yet Abbie was starting to feel as if she was in the middle of a horror story!
‘I believe so,’ she answered slowly, watching Jarrett warily, but also aware that Tim, her dark-haired driver, was only feet away, seated behind the wheel of the car, if she should need his assistance. Which she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t. Being at the centre of a brawl, outside one of her own hotels, would not help in keeping the low-key existence she preferred to lead. ‘I have to go—’
‘You already said that,’ Jarrett rasped. ‘Several times, in fact.’ He looked past her to the parked, chauffeur-driven limousine, his expression instantly scornful. ‘He obviously has money,’ he drawled contemptuously.
Abbie frowned her bewilderment at the comment, starting to wonder if perhaps champagne didn’t agree with this man; he had seemed relatively comprehensible—too much so with regard to his opinion of women!—before he had drunk it. ‘Who does?’ she prompted dazedly.
‘The blond Adonis,’ Jarrett continued harshly. ‘Whatever he’s worth, Abbie, I’m sure I’m worth more!’
‘I’m sure you are,’ she agreed soothingly, her bewilderment deepening. What blond Adonis? ‘It’s late, Jarrett—’
‘But it’s going to get a lot later for you, isn’t it?’ he bit out accusingly, glaring down at her. ‘Why do you do it, Abbie? Don’t tell me you actually enjoy it!’ he added disgustedly.
Champagne obviously didn’t agree with him; he wasn’t making any sense at all now. She gave a barely perceptible movement to indicate Tim should come and open the car door for her now. ‘I’m sure one of us is going to be suffering with a terrible headache in the morning,’ she told Jarrett lightly. ‘And it isn’t going to be me!’ she amended before climbing thankfully into the back of the white limousine.
Jarrett stepped forward and stopped Tim closing the door behind her. ‘Are you implying I’m drunk, Abbie?’ he growled.
‘I’m implying that one of us needs to sober up—and again it isn’t me!’ She nodded to Tim to close the car door, sitting back with some relief when, with one last scathing glare, Jarrett stepped back before turning on his heel and striding back into the hotel. In the direction of the bar, no doubt!
Abbie gave a weary sigh, relaxing back against the limousine’s leather upholstery. It had been a very long evening. And it wasn’t over yet...
Lights blazed in the chalet ski-lodge she had rented for her stay at Whistler, but thankfully not at the back, where Charlie’s bedroom was; her young daughter should have been asleep hours ago.
She nodded her thanks distractedly to Tim as she got out of the car, running lightly up the steps to let herself inside the lodge, going straight through to the lounge where she knew Tony would be waiting for her.
He looked up as she came in. He was sitting at a table working on some papers he had laid out there, the flames from the log fire giving his hair the colour of rich cream. ‘Everything okay?’ he prompted worriedly as Abbie stood in the doorway staring at him.
‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘Charlie?’
He gave an affectionate smile as he stood up. ‘Asleep. But looking forward to skiing in the morning,’ he added warningly.
Abbie smiled too now. Her daughter had been able to ski almost as soon as she could walk, and it took all of Abbie’s efforts to keep up with her. But Charlie never seemed to tire of skiing, making run after run.
However, it was something else that held Abbie’s attention now. Tony was blond and athletically
