A Forbidden Temptation. Anne Mather

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setting Grace’s glass on a low polished coffee table where several expensive yachting magazines were strewn in elegant disarray.

      Deliberately? Grace didn’t think so. Despite the little she knew of the man, she didn’t think Jack Connolly would care what other people thought of his home.

      Jack put Grace’s glass on the table and, to his relief, Grace seated herself on a plush velvet sofa beside the coffee table. And Sean, after accepting his beer from Jack, did the same.

      ‘Hey, great place you’ve got here,’ he said, waving his bottle around with a distinct lack of regard for the safety of its contents. ‘Where’d you get all this stuff? It looks expensive.’

      Jack propped his hips against a small bureau he’d picked up in an auction room and said, ‘A lot of it was my gran’s. The rest I bought and restored myself.’

      ‘No way!’

      Sean stared at him, and Jack could see the disbelief in the other man’s gaze.

      ‘Yes way,’ he said and took a mouthful of his beer. ‘It seemed a shame to get rid of it.’

      Sean shook his head. ‘Since when have you been a furniture restorer, man? You’re an architect. You design houses, shopping centres, schools, that sort of thing.’

      ‘Yeah, well—’

      Jack didn’t want to get into his reasons for doing what he’d done, but Sean wouldn’t let it go.

      ‘Oh, I get it,’ he said. ‘Now you’ve got private means, you don’t need a job.’

      Jack bit back the retort that sprang to his lips and said instead, ‘Something like that.’ He took another gulp from his bottle. ‘Beer okay?’

      ‘Oh, yeah. It’s cold.’ Sean nodded. ‘Just the way I like it.’

      Then he glanced suggestively at Grace. ‘Well, beer, anyway.’

      Grace cringed. Why couldn’t Sean just drink his beer and stop being so crass? It was so embarrassing.

      And, as if he’d sensed her discomfort, it was Jack who came to her rescue.

      ‘So what are you doing these days?’ he asked, addressing himself to the other man. ‘Still inventing computer games for that Japanese company?’

      ‘Well, no. As a matter of fact, I don’t work for Sunyata any more. I’ve been doing some consulting until I can get my own website off the ground. We can’t all have your advantages, can we, Jack?’

      Jack blew out a breath. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? He just wished this uncomfortable interview were over.

      Forcing a smile to his lips, he met Grace’s unwilling gaze with a feeling of resignation. But he pressed on, anyway. ‘How about you, Grace?’ he asked.

      ‘Grace has a law degree,’ broke in Sean before she could say anything. There was pride in his voice, despite the lingering touch of animosity he’d revealed before. ‘She used to work for the Crown Prosecution Service.’

      ‘Really?’ Jack was impressed.

      ‘Not that there are jobs like that up here,’ Sean went on bitterly. ‘Grace has had to put her career on hold.’

      Grace sighed. ‘I’m very happy with the job I’ve got,’ she averred shortly. ‘Can we talk about something else?’

      ‘But you, working for an estate agent!’ Sean was scathing. ‘You know you can do better than that.’

      ‘Sean!’

      Grace stared at him with warning eyes, and, as if realising he wasn’t doing himself any favours, Sean grimaced.

      ‘It’s a living, I suppose,’ he conceded. ‘I may even try to find myself a job in Alnwick, too.’

      Grace shook her head disbelievingly, but Sean’s expression didn’t change.

      ‘Well, I could,’ he insisted annoyingly. ‘I might enjoy a change of scene.’

      ‘I don’t think so.’

      Grace knew he was being deliberately provocative. Was it all for Jack Connolly’s benefit? The last thing she wanted was for Sean to move up here.

      But as if sensing what she was feeling, Sean reached out and took her hand.

      ‘You know how I feel about you, don’t you, baby?’ he crooned, bestowing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. ‘I know we’re having a few problems right now, but once you’re back in London...’

      Grace gritted her teeth. ‘I’m not going back to London, Sean.’ She’d told him she wanted to stay near her parents, but he refused to believe it. She’d also made it clear that they could remain in touch—in the hope of recovering her parents’ money, although he didn’t need to know that—but any relationship between them was over. Did he think that by talking like this in front of Connolly he’d convince her to change her mind?

      Meanwhile, Jack stifled a groan. If Sean and his girlfriend were having problems, he didn’t want to hear about it.

      And despite Sean’s mournful expression, he didn’t think Grace was too thrilled about it, either.

      Or was that only wishful thinking?

      And, if so, where had that come from?

      Grace had succeeded in pulling her hand away now. For want of something else to do, she wrapped both hands round her glass and concentrated on the cola fizzing away inside.

      She’d known Sean was selfish, but his behaviour was unforgivable. He was supposed to be sympathising with Jack, but he hadn’t even mentioned his wife’s death.

      Taking a sip of her drink, she put her glass down and got to her feet.

      ‘We should be going, Sean,’ she said firmly.

      Sean swallowed another mouthful of his beer and stood up also, leaving the bottle teetering on the edge of one of the sailing magazines.

      Aware of the obvious dangers, Grace had to steel herself not to lean down and rescue it before it fell over and sprayed sticky liquid over the table and the rug below.

      Instead, she moved towards the door, avoiding Connolly’s narrow-eyed appraisal, desperate to get out of there before Sean could embarrass her again.

      But unfortunately he wasn’t quite finished.

      Looking at Jack, he said, ‘We’re going to have a proper catch-up, old buddy.’ He tried to catch Grace’s arm, but she’d already moved out of his reach. ‘How about next weekend?’ he added. ‘I’ve got to go back to London tomorrow, but I’ll try to get up again on Friday evening. What do you say?’

      ‘Well...’

      Jack was non-committal. The last thing he wanted was another awkward interlude like this.

      ‘I’d

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