most of it while you can. See you when you get back.’
She didn’t wait for any response, which was fortunate as Jessica would have been hard put to it to hit the right note. Deceiving her cousin was not something she liked doing, but there was no way she could bring herself to tell her the truth.
Her bag packed, she was ready and waiting in a dark cream trouser suit when Zac arrived promptly on the hour. He gave her a deliberated scrutiny, meeting her eyes with a smile on his lips.
‘You look perfect. Grandmother will love the curls. I find them pretty appealing myself, if it comes to that.’
Jessica gave him a less than appreciative look, disregarding the impact he made in the same pale grey suit he had worn the other night, this time with a dull gold shirt. ‘You don’t need to start playing the part yet.’
‘Just getting the feel of it,’ he responded. ‘I’d doubt if Grandfather’s mind is any less astute than it ever was.’
‘There’ll come a time when you have to come clean,’ she pointed out. ‘To your grandmother, at least.’
‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’ Zac made an abrupt movement. ‘Let’s go.’
He carried her bag down to the car and stowed it in the boot alongside his own, then saw her into the passenger seat. Jessica stopped herself from moving away when he slid in behind the wheel, but only just. Relatively spacious though the car interior was, he was still too close for comfort. The clean fresh tang of his aftershave tantalised her nostrils.
The car had air-conditioning, but Jessica had no quarrel with Zac’s preference for open windows. She took off her jacket and tossed it to join his on the back seat, enjoying the cool rush of air on her bare arms. Cut to follow the shape of her body without undue clinging, the sleeveless, emerald green top drew a frankly appraising glance, making her wish she’d kept the jacket on. The last thing she’d want was for him to think she was flaunting herself.
‘You said your grandfather was eighty,’ she remarked, looking for something—anything—to talk about. ‘Is your grandmother younger?’
‘The same, within a couple of months. They grew up next door to one another.’ Zac gave a dry smile. ‘I’d say their fates were sealed from an early age.’
‘Do they know we’re coming?’
‘I rang last night to say we’d be there for dinner.’
Jessica gave him a surprised glance. ‘But it must have been going up the hill for two by the time you got to the hotel.’
‘I meant earlier.’ There was no element of apology in his tone. ‘A calculated gamble.’
‘Do you take chances in business affairs too?’ she queried after a moment.
‘On occasion. Playing it safe all the time makes for a very dull life. I haven’t fallen on my face yet.’
‘There’s always a first time,’ Jessica retorted. ‘Your grandfather still has to be convinced.’
‘He will be.’
She looked out of the side window, hoping he was right. To be caught out in a lie of this magnitude at such a time was beyond contemplation.
They were at the airport by ten fifteen. Zac, it turned out, had already phoned through before leaving the hotel, and managed to book two seats on a scheduled flight leaving at midday. Jessica took the time to cancel her reservation on the following day’s flight, accepting the lack of refund due to short notice as a matter of course. Right now it was a minor consideration.
Flying first class was an event in itself. Cocooned in soft leather comfort, a glass of champagne at her elbow, Jessica was forced to concede the advantages. If the engagement was for real, this was the kind of lifestyle she would be living from now on. Few people could honestly claim to find nothing appealing in that notion.
Only it wasn’t for real. Once the weekend was over, she and Zac would go their separate ways—with any subsequent fallout from the deception his problem. The fact that she was going to find him difficult, if not downright impossible, to forget was her problem. How did one go about forgetting a man who set every nerve ending on fire?
She stole a glance at him, relaxed in his seat, head back against the rest, eyes closed. The firm lines of his mouth aroused an aching desire to know its touch again; she felt her nipples spring to life at the very thought. A weakness she’d better get a hold on if she was to emerge from this encounter with some shred of self-respect left, she told herself hardily.
Zac had a car at Heathrow. By two o’clock English time, they were on the road.
After a week of warm sun, the pouring rain was hardly scheduled to lift any spirits. Jessica found hers sinking ever deeper as the miles went by. However good the intention, she was entering into a conspiracy to deceive a dying man. If Zac himself felt no shame, she certainly did.
‘I’m not sure I can go through with this,’ she said.
Zac gave her a swift glance, his jaw firming. ‘You can’t back out now!’
‘You can’t make me carry on with it!’ she responded.
‘Not physically, perhaps. But ethically you’re…’
‘You’re a fine one to talk about ethics!’ Jessica shot back. ‘If you hadn’t lied in the first place, none of this would be necessary!’
‘I’m aware of it. As time travel isn’t yet possible, unfortunately, we’re all of us stuck with the mistakes we make. You agreed to do this for my grandfather’s sake, not mine. He’s the one you’d be letting down.’
Jessica bit her lip. ‘All right. I’ll do my best.’
‘Thanks.’ His tone had softened. ‘You’re one in a million, Jess!’
For once she allowed the shortening of her name to pass. There were far more important things to think about.
It was coming up to six o’clock when they finally reached their destination. Lying a couple of miles from the coast, Whitegates turned out to be a converted nineteenth-century farmhouse set within several acres of land. Getting from the car on the wide fronting driveway, Jessica stood for a moment to view the place, loving its timelessness, its air of tranquillity.
‘Not what you were expecting?’ asked Zac, moving back to open the boot.
‘I hadn’t actually thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose if I had, I might have imagined something built to order.’
‘More suited to a retired elderly couple?’
‘Well…yes. This is wonderful, but it must be a lot of work.’
‘A fair amount,’ he agreed. ‘But help isn’t too much of a problem. They have a daily maid-cum-cook, plus a whole army of cleaners, gardeners, whatever, to call on.’
Silly of her to think otherwise considering the family background, Jessica reflected. Finances would hardly be strained.
The
