He raised his eyebrows. ‘Can it be that you’re going out on a date this evening?’
‘Well, there’s no need to look so surprised, Jackson!’ She was suddenly irritated. ‘I’m twenty-six, not eighty-six!’
That might be the case, but as far as Jackson was aware not only did Bree never go out in the evenings, but she hadn’t been out on a date since she’d come to work for him a year ago. Which, when he thought about it, was decidedly odd.
And Jackson had thought about it—for the past couple of hours. Several times. Several times too many as far as he was concerned!
For Bree to suddenly reveal that she was going out on a date this very evening—the first since he had known her—was a coincidence that only added to his already unsettled mood.
‘Meeting up with an old friend?’ he prompted curiously.
‘A new one, actually,’ she mumbled softly.
‘Anyone I know …?’
She bristled. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, Jackson.’
Jackson forced himself to relax at the deserved rebuke. ‘I just thought perhaps I could vet him for you when he arrives.’ He arched a mocking brow. ‘You know—a man-to-man thing, to see if he measures up.’
Bree’s lips thinned. ‘He isn’t coming here. I’m meeting him at a restaurant.’
‘Oh, that’s bad, Bree.’ He shook his head, taunting her. ‘You should never trust a man who isn’t gentleman enough to call and collect you for a date!’
‘Says the gentleman who rarely—if ever—collects his own dates!’ she retorted tartly.
‘I make a point of it.’ Jackson gave an unrepentant grin. ‘That’s how I know you shouldn’t trust a man like that!’
Bree eyed him darkly. ‘I’ll bear your advice in mind.’
In actual fact it was precisely due to Bree’s uncertainty about having dinner with Roger Tyler that she had decided to drive to the restaurant alone: at least that way Bree could drive herself home if Roger behaved in any way she found in the least objectionable.
Jackson’s assumption when he went out earlier that the incoming telephone call would be Roger Tyler, confirming their two o’clock appointment, had been totally wrong; it had been someone else completely—another client confirming an appointment for next week. Roger Tyler hadn’t telephoned back at all, and neither had he answered any of Bree’s calls when she had attempted to inform him that Jackson was no longer available that afternoon. Instead Roger had appeared in person at Beaumont House promptly at two o’clock.
Tall and dark, probably in his late thirties or early forties, and with a craggily handsome face, Roger Tyler hadn’t seemed too perturbed when Bree had smoothly delivered the excuse that Jackson wasn’t there because he had been called away on business. In fact the other man hadn’t seemed bothered at all—instead he had chatted away quite happily with Bree for over half an hour, culminating in an invitation to dinner that evening.
Bree could only suppose that the ‘bimbo’ Jackson had referred to earlier hadn’t been willing to reschedule their date for the evening! Whatever the reason for Roger’s invitation, Bree had surprised herself by saying yes.
She had no idea why.
No, that wasn’t true; Bree knew exactly why she’d acted so completely out of character by accepting Roger Tyler’s dinner invitation. Because earlier she had realised that today was the one-year anniversary of her wedding that never was. In the circumstances Bree would probably have accepted a dinner invitation from the devil himself as a distraction from those crushing memories! Except the devil she knew hadn’t asked …
Whenever Bree thought back to a year ago—which she tried to do as seldom as possible—it was never without feeling that same sting of humiliation she had suffered on the day in question. The day that had changed her life.
Meaning to put up some curtains, Bree had gone to the house she and David had purchased together and had planned to move into after their Paris honeymoon only to discover David was already there. Not just David, but also her married sister Cathy. And, as Bree had discovered painfully, the two of them had been in bed together—in what should have been Bree and David’s marital bed.
Not only had Bree called off the wedding, but the scandal of David and Cathy’s several-months-long affair had ripped a hole in Bree’s family that still hadn’t completely healed.
So, yes, Bree knew exactly why she had so impetuously agreed to go out with Roger Tyler this evening. Her acceptance was based not on any attraction Bree might or might not feel towards him, but because she desperately needed a diversion from her feelings of hurt and betrayal. Of inadequacy. Because David had so obviously preferred her older sister to her.
Feelings like that didn’t seem half so important when a man like Roger Tyler had invited her out to dinner!
Doubts had begun creeping in after Roger had left Beaumont House—to the point where Bree had spent the afternoon toying with the idea of telephoning him to say that she couldn’t make it this evening after all!
Jackson’s obvious surprise that she was going out on a date, along with his cynical teasing, had brought about a complete change of heart on her part. Bree no longer cared whether or not Roger Tyler was a man she could trust—she had every intention of going out to dinner with him now. If only to prove to Jackson that she wasn’t the unattractive piece of furniture he obviously believed her to be!
Her chin rose stubbornly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help out with Danny this evening, Jackson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and get ready.’
Jackson reached out and placed a hand on Bree’s arm as she turned away.
‘What aren’t you telling me …?’ He looked down at her searchingly.
She laughed lightly, dismissively. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever had the sort of relationship where we’ve confided about our private lives to each other, Jackson!’
No, they hadn’t, Jackson acknowledged with a frown. And he had always been grateful for Bree’s silence on the subject before today; he
couldn’t abide women who wanted to fill you in on every minute detail of their lives. Yes, in the past Jackson had always been glad that Bree kept her own counsel. Until now.
There was something different about Bree this afternoon. A brittleness. An air of recklessness he had never seen in her before. Almost as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump over—
What the hell …?
As Bree had already pointed out, she was a grown woman and could do exactly as she wished in her free time. And if her dinner date this evening meant that Jackson couldn’t go out after all, then that was just too bad. Hell, Bree was as entitled to a social life as he was.
Except she’d never had one until tonight …
He gave a tense, irritated shrug. ‘I feel a sense of responsibility for you—’
‘Oh,
