exactly where the delicacy ended.
‘Undoubtedly,’ he bit out abruptly. ‘Now, if we could perhaps return to discussing Butterfly …?’
‘“Butterfly” …?’ his adversary repeated slowly as she resumed her seat on the sofa before crossing one silkily elegant knee over the other.
‘It was your grandmother’s code name—’
‘I’m aware of what it was, Mr Wilder,’ she cut in crisply.
‘It’s also the working title of my film,’ Jaxon explained tersely.
‘Isn’t that rather presumptuous of you?’ She frowned. ‘As far as I’m aware,’ she continued warily, ‘there has been no agreement as yet to there even being a film, let alone it already having a working title!’ She turned enquiring eyes to her grandfather, her tension palpable.
Sir Geoffrey shrugged. ‘I don’t believe there is any way in which we can stop Mr Wilder from making his film, Stazy.’
‘But—’
‘With or without our co-operation,’ Sir Geoffrey added firmly. ‘And personally—after the publication of that dreadful biography!—I would rather be allowed to have some say in the content than none at all.’
Stazy Bromley’s eyes glittered with anger as she turned to look at Jaxon. ‘If you’ve dared to threaten my grandfather—’
‘Of course Jaxon hasn’t threatened me, darling—’
‘And Jaxon resents the hell—excuse my language, sir—’ Jaxon nodded briefly to the older man before turning his chilling gaze back to the bristling Stazy Bromley ‘—out of the implication that he might have done so!’
Stazy had the good sense to realise that she just might have been out of line with that last remark. It was really no excuse that she had been predisposed to dislike Jaxon Wilder before she had even met him, based purely on the things she had read about him. Especially when he had been charm itself since his arrival. To her grandfather, at least. Stazy was pretty sure, after her barely veiled remarks, that the antagonism now went both ways!
But exactly what had Jaxon Wilder expected to happen when he had arranged to come here? That he would meet alone with a man aged in his mid-nineties who had recently suffered a heart attack? That the two of them would exchange pleasantries before he walked away with Geoffrey’s complete co-operation? If that was what he’d thought was going to happen then he obviously didn’t know Stazy’s grandfather very well; even twenty-five years after his supposed retirement Geoffrey was a power to be reckoned with! And Stazy considered herself only one step behind him …
Not only was she a highly qualified London university lecturer, it had been hinted at by the powers that be that she was in line to become head of the department when her professor stepped down next year—and Stazy hadn’t put herself in that position at only twenty-nine by being shy and retiring.
‘I apologise if I was mistaken,’ she murmured softly. ‘Mr Wilder’s use of the term “working title” seemed to imply that things had already been settled between the two of you.’
‘Apology accepted,’ Jaxon Wilder grated, without even the slightest lessening of the tension in those broad shoulders. ‘Obviously I would rather proceed with your blessing, Sir Geoffrey.’ He nodded to the older man, at the same time managing to imply that he didn’t give a damn whether or not he had Stazy’s!
‘And his co-operation?’ she put in dryly.
Cool grey eyes turned back in her direction. ‘Of course.’
Stazy repressed the shiver that threatened to run the length of her spine—of alarm rather than the pleasure she imagined most women felt when Jaxon Wilder looked at them! As his icy gaze raked over her with slow criticism Stazy knew exactly what he would see: a woman who preferred a no-nonsense appearance. Her lashes were naturally long and dark, requiring no mascara, and in fact her face was completely bare of make-up apart from a pale peach lipgloss. Her hands, throat and ears were completely unadorned with jewellery.
Certainly Stazy knew herself to be nothing in the least like the beautiful and willowy actresses in whose company Jaxon Wilder had so often been seen, photographed for newspapers and magazines during the last dozen years or so. She doubted the man would even know what to do with an intelligent woman …
What on earth—?
Why should she care what Jaxon Wilder thought of her? As far as Stazy was concerned there would be absolutely no reason for the two of them ever to meet again after today—let alone for her to care what he thought of her as a woman …
She straightened determinedly. ‘I believe you are not only wasting your own time, Mr Wilder, but also my grandfather’s and mine—’
‘As it happens, I’m willing to give Jaxon my blessing and my co-operation. I will allow him to read letters and personal papers of Anastasia’s.’ Geoffrey spoke firmly over Stazy’s scathing dismissal. ‘But only under certain conditions.’
Stazy’s eyes widened as she turned to look at her grandfather. ‘You can’t be serious!’
Her grandfather gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘I believe you will find, darling, that it’s called controlling a situation that one knows is inevitable, rather than attempting a futile fight against it.’
Jaxon felt none of the exhilaration he might have expected to feel at Sir Geoffrey not only giving his blessing to the making of the film, but also offering him access to certain of Anastasia’s personal papers in order to aid in the writing of the screenplay. Inwardly he sensed that whatever Geoffrey’s conditions were, Jaxon wasn’t going to like them …
Stazy Bromley obviously felt that same sense of unease as she stood up abruptly, a frown between those clear green eyes as she stared down at her grandfather for several long seconds before her expression softened slightly.
‘Darling, remember what happened after that awful book was published—’
‘I’m insulted that you would even think of comparing the film I intend to make with that sensationalised trash!’ Jaxon rose sharply to his feet.
She turned to look at him coolly. ‘How can I think otherwise?’
‘Maybe by giving me a chance—’
‘Now, now, you two.’ Sir Geoffrey chuckled softly. ‘It really doesn’t bode well if the two of you can’t even be in the same room together without arguing.’
Jaxon’s earlier feeling of trepidation grew as he turned to look down at the older man, not fooled for a moment by the innocence of Sir Geoffrey’s expression. ‘Perhaps you would care to explain your conditions …?’ he prompted slowly, warily. Whatever ace Geoffrey Bromley had hidden up his sleeve Jaxon was utterly convinced he wasn’t going to like it!
The older man gave a shrug. ‘My first condition is that there will be no copies made of my wife’s personal papers. In fact they are never to leave this house.’
That was going to make things slightly awkward. It would mean that Jaxon would have to spend several days—possibly a week—here at Bromley House in order to read those papers and make notes
