to work in the City, once upon a time.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Did you, indeed? Why did you leave?’
‘I’ll tell you some other time—our dinner’s approaching.’
Over the meal, which was as excellent as Avery had promised, Jonas made no effort to press her about her change of career. Instead he talked about his mother’s passion for gardening and his father’s golf handicap, and the various Mercer relatives who worked with him.
‘I have plenty of help to carry the load,’ he said wryly. ‘Would you like coffee?’
Coffee had an air of finality about it. And because this type of evening was missing from her life these days Avery was reluctant to let it end yet. She hesitated for a moment, then suggested they go back to her place for the coffee.
‘If you’re willing to walk back into town afterwards,’ she added. ‘It’s not far.’
‘I’d like that very much,’ he said promptly, and signalled to a waiter for the bill.
When they arrived at the four-square Victorian villa of Avery’s birth, Jonas looked on in approval as she switched off the alarm. ‘A sensible precaution if you live alone. Do you?’ he added casually, looming tall in the narrow hallway.
‘Yes.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Or did you think I was after some light entertainment while the man in my life is away?’
He shook his head, unperturbed. ‘I was thinking more of relatives.’
Her eyes shadowed as she led the way down the long narrow hall to the kitchen at the back of the house. ‘Not any more.’
‘It’s a lot of house for one,’ Jonas commented as he followed her into the large, welcoming room.
She nodded. ‘I had thoughts about selling or letting it when it came to me. But it’s been in the family since my great-grandparents took possession of it from new, and in the end I decided to stay put because at first I ran the business from home.’ Avery switched on the kettle, and shot a look at the man lounging at ease in one of the rush-seated chairs, his endless legs stretched out under the table. ‘Would you prefer something else to coffee? Whisky, brandy—?’
He smiled. ‘Would it destroy my image forever to ask for a cup of tea?’
Which, Avery assumed, was his way of saying he had no misconceptions about what else was on offer. ‘Tea it is—in which case we ought to drink it out of my mother’s best china cups in the sitting room.’
‘I’d rather stay here. So what did you actually do in the City?’ he added as he watched her pour boiling water onto tea bags.
‘I was regarded as something of a prodigy. By the age of twenty-five I was a fund manager for one of the big insurance groups, handling billions in retail and pension-funds assets.’
‘High-flyer,’ said Jonas with respect.
‘So was Icarus! But instead of flying too near the sun, like him, I left the City because my mother was ill.’ Avery’s face was sober as she set two steaming mugs on the table. ‘So what exactly brings you to this neck of the woods, Mr Mercer?’ she asked, taking the chair opposite.
‘My father heard of some reasonable land in this area. I’m here to check it out for building purposes.’
Avery welcomed the idea if it meant return visits by Jonas Mercer. ‘And is the site suitable?’
‘I’ve come up against one or two snags, but I’ll iron them out before I leave.’ Something in the dark eyes belied the indolence of his posture. ‘I’d like to see you again before I do.’
‘When do you go?’
‘Friday, if all goes to plan.’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘I’m free on Thursday.’
‘I suppose it’s too much to hope for tomorrow evening as well?’
She shook her head regretfully. ‘I’m committed to a day of eye-crossing hand work tomorrow. I’ll be slaving away on it at home all day, and by evening I’ll be grumpy and tired, and no fit company for anyone.’
‘In that case—’ Jonas drained his mug and got up ‘—I’d better let you get to bed to shape up for it, and I’ll take myself off to practice patience until Thursday.’
‘I’ll look forward to that. Thank you for dinner, Jonas. I enjoyed the evening very much.’ To her surprise Avery felt flustered as she led the way to the front door. She was no schoolgirl on a first date, she reminded herself irritably. Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her goodnight.
But Jonas took her by the shoulders and bent his head to prove her wrong, with a kiss which packed such a punch her knees were trembling when he released her. He looked down at her for a long moment, and then kissed her again very thoroughly. At last he raised his head, trailed a finger down her flushed cheek, and smiled down into her startled eyes.
‘I’ll be here at seven on the dot. Goodnight, Avery Crawford.’
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN Avery made the decision to keep on her mother’s business she’d advertised for an experienced tailor and Frances White had entered her life—first as an employee, but soon as a valued friend. With Frances’s input the business had rapidly expanded enough to need premises in town, at which point Avery had engaged two former schoolfriends as skilled part-time help. This new arrangement had left Avery free to concentrate on the financial and advertising side, and on visits to clients for fittings. She had also been able to fine-tune her own particular talent for the embroidery and delicate hand repairs Avery Alterations had soon become known for in the neighbourhood. And if she sometimes yearned for the buzz and adrenaline of her past life in the City, Avery kept it strictly to herself.
She was in mellow mood next day as she settled down in the small spare room to work on Pansy Keith-Davidson’s vintage bridal gown. Unpicking seams in delicate fabric was tedious, time-consuming work, and normally Avery worked with the radio for company, or an audio book—preferably a thriller. But today she was thinking exclusively of Jonas Mercer—and his kisses. In the past she’d had her fair share of them, just like any other half-presentable female, but lately they hadn’t featured in her life at all. She knew there was more to it than that. With just a kiss or two Jonas Mercer had revived feelings she’d been utterly certain she would never experience again.
Avery found her hands had stilled, and she was staring blindly at ivory slipper satin instead of treating it with the respect it deserved. She pulled herself together sharply, switched on her thriller and focused her full attention on the work which represented a handsome fee for Avery Alterations.
It was late, and Avery’s eyes felt hot and dry by the time careful ironing had completed her day’s work. As she stepped out of the shower her phone rang, and she snatched it off the bathroom stool.
‘Good evening, Ms Crawford. Are you cross-eyed and grumpy?’ enquired a familiar voice.
‘I was by the time I finished for the day, Mr Mercer, but I’m better now,’ she informed him, rubbing at her hair.
‘Good.
