she knew he must have gone to in order to meet her this evening, she shouldn’t be surprised by that.
And she wasn’t. Surprise certainly wasn’t her primary emotion.
‘If I so much as think you’re following me home I will contact the police, Nik,’ she declared.
He gave an inclination of his head. ‘I know that.’
‘And?’
‘And I’ll find some other way,’ he answered unhesitantly.
Looking at him, she could see that he would, as he had arranged their meeting this evening, by fair means or foul.
‘I have to go,’ she told him coldly.
He shrugged. ‘Your prerogative.’
She suddenly realized from the harshness of his expression, that whatever had happened between them a few minutes ago was definitely over now as far as he was concerned.
Which was what she had wanted. Wasn’t it…?
Of course it was. Any relationship with Nik Prince was dangerous. To her own peace of mind, as well as her father’s.
She nodded abruptly before turning and walking away, knowing from the way she felt no tingling of awareness down her spine that Nik wasn’t watching her this time. And why should he? He had failed in his objective, which meant she was of no further use to him.
What would Nik say, Jinx wondered, if he were to ever learn the truth?
He was less than proud of himself, Nik acknowledged uncomfortably as he sat across the dinner table from Jane Morrow, the pretty blonde thirtyish-year-old making no effort to hide the attraction she felt towards him, touching him constantly as they talked.
The last six days of searching for Jinx’s home address had proved even more frustrating than the previous two months.
There were several J. Nixons listed in the London telephone books, none of them the right ones. Jackson Nixon’s previous publishers—of those serious historical tomes—had informed him that Professor Nixon had recently moved and hadn’t yet supplied them with his new address. Although, they had also added firmly, they wouldn’t have been able to reveal that information even if they did have it!
Nik hadn’t been any more successful when he’d decided to turn his attention to investigating Jinx instead of her father.
Cambridge University had been of no use at all in supplying him with an address for Dr Juliet Nixon, claiming they weren’t at liberty to give out that information, although they had offered to forward any letter he cared to send to Dr Nixon at the university. Very helpful!
A visit to Jinx’s friend Susan Fellows two days after her party, on the pretext that he had lost a cufflink on Saturday evening, had proved totally unfruitful, both with regard to the non-existent cufflink and in garnering any information on Jinx. Apart from confirming that, yes, the Nixons had moved in the last year—with no address forthcoming, naturally!—and that Jinx’s father had been ill for some time, the beautiful blonde hadn’t wanted to discuss her friend at all.
None of Stazy’s friends seemed to know Jinx personally, let alone where she lived. Which had brought Nik full circle and left his only possible source of information to be Jane Morrow at Stephens Publishing…
But, strangely enough, even though he had felt no qualms about calculatingly charming this woman a month ago, he now felt distaste at the possibility of taking it any further. As Jane seemed to want him to do. Oh, Jane was attractive enough, but his reason for asking her out again was certainly less than honourable.
Honourable…
Now there was a word to be reckoned with, Nik acknowledged self-derisively. Was he an honourable man? He had always thought so. But his behaviour these last few weeks concerning meeting Jackson Nixon was certainly questionable. In fact, since meeting Jinx, it seemed to have become something of an obsession with him.
As had Jinx!
In fact, Nik had found himself thinking altogether too much about Jinx Nixon the last six days, about the way she had felt in his arms that night, and not enough about her father, and the movie he wanted to make of the man’s book.
‘—had some really good news today.’ His attention returned to Jane Morrow as she spoke excitedly, her almost boyish slenderness due to the nervous energy that marked all of her quick movements.
‘Tell me about it,’ he invited.
‘J. I. Watson sent in his second manuscript this morning!’ Jane told him, her face flushed with the triumph of being able to tell him that. ‘James has it, so I haven’t had the chance to read all of it yet, but the little I have tells me it’s going to be another runaway success. Which doesn’t always happen with second books, you know…’
‘Is it another No Ordinary Boy book?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ Jane confirmed. ‘Of course, it won’t have that title, but it has all the same characters, and…’
She continued to talk, but Nik had faded her out after her initial announcement that they had received the second J. I. Watson ‘Boy’ manuscript.
Was Jinx aware that her father had written a second book? From her vehemence on Saturday evening concerning the commercial success of the first one, he would have thought she would rather her father never put fictional pen to paper again. Or fingers to keyboard, depending on which method Jackson Nixon preferred to use in order to write his books, Nik allowed ruefully.
But this second manuscript made it even more urgent that he meet the other man; the publication of the second book, coinciding with the possible release of the movie of the first book, would be tremendous publicity for all concerned.
If only he could get past Jinx and talk to her father!
‘I suppose he’s requested the same conditions as before?’ he quizzed Jane lightly, knowing she had been as puzzled by the author’s behaviour as James Stephens was.
In fact, Nik having learnt that the J in the author’s name stood for Jackson, the I for Ivor meant that he probably now knew more about the author than the publishers did!
Jane made a face. ‘No publicity? No interviews? No book signings?’ She nodded. ‘Pretty much. Except there was rather an interesting footnote this time…’ She broke off teasingly as she gave him a pointed look.
Nik moved uncomfortably under that predatory gaze. ‘Yes…?’
‘Well, it’s strange, really,’ Jane confided huskily, once again touching his hand. ‘You’re actually mentioned by name too this time.’
He stiffened warily. ‘I am?’
‘“Absolutely no further correspondence from Nik Prince to be forwarded on” was how I believe it was worded.’ She gave him an assessing look. ‘I think you must have really upset him with all your approaches regarding making the film.’
No, he hadn’t upset Jackson Nixon—how could he have done when it was virtually impossible to meet the man? The person who was so annoyed with him
