Three months later.
‘I HAD LUNCH with Jaxon today.’
Stazy was so startled by her grandfather’s sudden announcement at a table in his favourite restaurant in London that the knife she had been using to eat the grilled sole she had ordered for her main course slipped unnoticed from her numbed fingers and fell noisily onto the tiled floor. Even then Stazy was only barely aware of a waiter rushing over to present her with a clean knife before he picked up the used one and left again.
Not only was Jaxon in London, but her grandfather had seen him earlier today...
After three months of thinking about Jaxon constantly—often dreaming about him too—it was incredible to learn that he was actually in London...
She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I had no idea he was even in England...’
‘He arrived yesterday,’ her grandfather replied. He was now fully recovered from the gunshot wound and back to his normal robust self.
That was more than could be said for Stazy!
Oh, it had been a positive three months as far as her work was concerned. The dig in Iraq had been very successful. And when she’d returned to the university campus last month she had officially been offered the job as Head of Department when the present head retired next year. She hadn’t given her answer yet but, having worked towards this very thing for the past eleven years, there seemed little doubt that she would accept the position.
No, on a professional level things couldn’t have been better. It was on a personal level that Stazy knew she wasn’t doing so well...
A part of her had hoped that time and distance would help to lessen the intensity of the feelings—the love—she felt for Jaxon, but instead the opposite had happened. Not a day, an hour went by, it seemed, when she didn’t think of him at least once, wondering how he was, what he was doing. Which beautiful actress he was involved with now...
Since returning from Iraq she had even found herself buying and avidly looking through those glossy magazines that featured gossip about the rich and the famous.
If she had hoped to see any photographs of Jaxon then she might as well have saved herself the money—and the heartache!—because she hadn’t succeeded in finding a single picture of him during the whole of that time. With a woman or otherwise.
The last thing she had been expecting, when her grandfather had invited her out to dinner with him this evening, was for him to calmly announce that Jaxon was in England at this very minute. Or at least Stazy presumed he was still here...
‘Does he intend staying long?’ she prompted lightly, aware that her hand was shaking slightly as she lifted her glass and took a much-needed sip of her white wine.
‘He didn’t say,’ Geoffrey answered dismissively.
‘Oh.’ There were so many things Stazy wanted to ask—such as, how did Jaxon look? What had the two men talked about? Had Jaxon asked about her...? And yet she felt so tied up in knots inside just at the thought of Jaxon being in London at all that she couldn’t ask any of them.
Although quite what her grandfather would have made of that interest if she had, after her previous attitude to Jaxon, was anybody’s guess!
‘He’s finished writing the screenplay.’
Stazy’s gaze sharpened. ‘And...?’
Her grandfather smiled ruefully. ‘And I recommend that you read it for yourself.’
She slowly licked the wine from her lips as she carefully placed her glass back down on the table. ‘He gave you a copy...?’
‘He gave me two copies. One for me and one for you.’ Geoffrey reached down and lifted the briefcase he had carried into the restaurant with him earlier.
That second copy, meant for her, told Stazy more than anything else could have done that Jaxon had no intention of seeking her out while he was in England. And after the way the two of them had parted how could she have expected anything else!
Her grandfather opened the two locks on his briefcase before taking out the thickly bound bundle of the screenplay and handing it across the table to her. ‘Read the front cover first, Stazy,’ he advised huskily as she continued to stare at it, as if it were a bomb about to go off in his hand, rather than taking it from him.
Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed hard. ‘Have you had a chance to read it yet?’
Geoffrey smiled. ‘Oh, yes.’
‘And?’
‘As I said, you need to read it for yourself.’
‘If you liked it then I’m sure I will too,’ she insisted firmly.
‘Exactly how long do you intend to go on like this, Stazy?’ her grandfather prompted impatiently as he placed the bound screenplay down on the tabletop, so that he could lock his briefcase before placing it back on the floor beside him.
Her hair moved silkily over her shoulders as she gave a shake of her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean...’
His steely-blue gaze became shrewdly piercing. ‘Don’t you?’
‘No.’
‘You have shadows under your eyes from not sleeping properly, you’ve lost weight you couldn’t afford to lose—?’
‘I think I picked up a bug in Iraq—’
‘And I think you caught the bug before you even went to Iraq—and its name is Jaxon!’
Stazy’s breath caught sharply in her throat at the baldness of her grandfather’s statement, the colour draining from her cheeks. ‘You’re mistaken—’
‘No, Stazy, you’re the one that’s making a mistake—by attempting to lie to someone who’s had to lie as often as I have over the years,’ he assured her impatiently.
She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. There was a pained frown between her eyes. She knew from her grandfather’s determined expression that he wasn’t about to let her continue prevaricating. ‘Is how I feel about Jaxon that obvious?’
‘Only to me, darling.’ He placed a hand gently over one of hers. ‘And that’s only because I know you so well and love you so much.’
She gave a shaky smile. ‘It’s probably as well that someone does!’
‘Maybe Jaxon—’
‘Let’s not even go there,’ she cut in firmly, her back tensing.
‘I have no idea how long he’ll be in England, but he did say he would be in London for several more days yet, so perhaps—’
‘Gramps, I’m the last person Jaxon would want to see while he’s here,’ she assured him dully.
‘You can’t possibly know that—’
‘Oh, but I can.’ Stazy gave a self-derisive shake of her head. ‘If you thought I was rude to him at our initial meeting then you should have seen me during those first few days we were alone together at Bromley House!’ She sighed heavily. ‘Believe me, Gramps, we parted in such a way as to ensure that Jaxon will never want to see me again!’ Stiltedly. Distantly. Like strangers.
‘Are you absolutely sure about that...?’
‘Yes, of course I’m sure.’ Her voice sharpened at her grandfather’s persistence. Wasn’t it enough for her to suffer the torment of knowing Jaxon was in England at all without having to explain all the reasons why he wouldn’t want to see her while he was here? ‘Feeling the way I do, I’m not sure it would be a good idea for me to see him again, either,’ she said emotionally.
Her grandfather sat back in his chair. ‘That’s a pity...’
Her eyes had misted over with unshed tears. ‘I don’t see why.’
‘Because when I saw him earlier today I invited him to join us this evening for dessert and coffee.’ Geoffrey glanced across the restaurant. ‘And it would appear he has arrived just in time to take up my invitation...’
* * *
Jaxon was totally unaware of the attention of the other diners in the restaurant as they recognised him. He walked slowly towards the table near the window where he could see Stazy sitting having dinner with her grandfather.
Even with her back towards him, Jaxon had spotted her the moment he had entered the crowded room; that gorgeous red-gold hair was like a vivid flame against the black dress she wore as it flowed loosely over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back!
‘Stazy,’ he greeted her huskily as she looked up at him warily from beneath lowered lashes.
Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed before answering him abruptly. ‘Jaxon.’
Close to her like this, Jaxon could see that her face was even thinner than it had been three months ago—as if she had lost more weight. The looseness of the cream dress about her breasts and waist seemed to confirm that impression. ‘I appreciate it’s the done thing, when you meet up with someone again after a long absence, to say how well the other person is looking—but in your case, Stazy, I would be lying!’ He almost growled in his disapproval of the fragility of her appearance. ‘And I know how much you hate lies...’
Her cheeks were aflame. ‘And what makes you think you’re looking so perfect yourself?’ she came back crisply.
‘That’s much better,’ Jaxon murmured approvingly, before glancing across the table at the avidly attentive Geoffrey Bromley. ‘When I asked about you earlier today your grandfather was at pains to tell me how happy and well you’ve been this past three months...’ He raised mocking brows at the older man.
‘Yes. Well. Family loyalty and all that.’ Geoffrey had the grace to look slightly embarrassed at the deception. ‘I did invite you to join us for dessert and coffee so that you could see Stazy for yourself. Speaking of which... No, there’s no need to bring another chair,’ he told the waiter as the man arrived to stand enquiringly beside their table. ‘I have another appointment to get to, so Mr Wilder can have my seat.’ He bent to pick up the briefcase from beside his chair before standing up in readiness to leave.
‘Gramps—’
‘I believe you told me yourself weeks ago that you’re a big girl now and no longer in need of my protection...?’ he reminded her firmly, before bending to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ‘If you’ll both excuse me...?’ He didn’t wait for either of them to reply before turning and walking briskly across the restaurant.
Yes, Stazy had told her grandfather that—but it had been in a totally different situation and context from this one!
That her grandfather had invited Jaxon to join them this evening with the deliberate intention of leaving her alone with him she had no doubt. Quite why he should have decided to do so was far less clear to her...
Especially so when the first thing Jaxon had done was insult her. And she had then insulted him back. Some things never changed, it seemed...
Her own insulting remark had been knee-jerk rather than truthful—Jaxon had never looked more wonderful to her than he did this evening. His silky dark hair was still shoulder-length, brushed back from the chiselled perfection of his face, and the black evening suit and snowy white shirt were tailored to the muscled width of his shoulders and tapered waist.
He looked every inch the suave and sophisticated actor Jaxon Wilder. Something Stazy had already noted the other female diners in the restaurant seemed to appreciate!
‘So...’ Jaxon had made himself comfortable in her grandfather’s recently vacated chair while Stazy had been lost in her own jumbled thoughts.
‘So,’ Stazy echoed, her heart beating so loudly that she felt sure Jaxon must be able to hear it even over the low hum of the conversation of the other diners. ‘You’ve obviously finished writing the screenplay.’ She glanced down at the bound copy on the tabletop.
His gaze sharpened. ‘Have you read it...?’
‘My grandfather only just gave it to me, so no—’ She broke off as she finally read the front page of the screenplay. ‘Why is my name next to yours beneath the title...?’ she asked slowly.
He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘You helped gather the research. You deserve to share in the credit for the writing of the screenplay.’
This explained why her grandfather had advised her to read the front cover when he gave it to her. ‘I’m sure my less than helpful attitude was more of a hindrance than a help—’
‘On the contrary—it kept me focused on what’s important.’ Jaxon sat forward, his expression intense. ‘Look, do you really want dessert and coffee? Or can we get out of here and go somewhere we can talk privately...?’ He absently waved away the waiter, who had been coming over to take their order.
Stazy raised startled lids to look across at Jaxon uncertainly, not in the least encouraged by the harshness of his expression. ‘And why would we want to do that...?’
Jaxon cursed under his breath as he saw the look of uncertainty on Stazy’s face. ‘I’ve missed you this past three months, Stazy,’ he told her gruffly. ‘More than you can possibly know.’
She grimaced. ‘Couldn’t you find anyone else to argue with?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘There’s that too!’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sure you’ve been far too busy to even give me a first thought, let alone a second one!’
‘Try telling my female co-star that—we’ve had to do so many retakes because of my inattentiveness that I finally decided to give everyone the week off!’ he muttered self-disgustedly.
Stazy blinked. ‘The pirate movie isn’t going well...?’
‘Totally my own fault.’ Jaxon sighed heavily. ‘I haven’t been feeling in a particularly swash or buckling mood.’ He picked up one of her hands as it rested on the tabletop and lightly linked his fingers with hers. ‘I have missed you, Stazy.’
She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘How can you miss someone you didn’t even want to be friends with the last time we were together?’
‘Because friendship isn’t what I want from you, damn it!’ Jaxon scowled darkly. ‘The fact that I asked you to go away with me for a few days should have told you that much!’
‘You seemed to feel we had unfinished business—’
‘I wanted to spend some time alone with you—’
‘People are staring, Jaxon,’ she warned softly, having glanced up and seen several of the other diners taking an interest in their obviously heated exchange.
‘If we don’t get out of here soon I’m going to give them something much more interesting than this to stare at!’ he came back fiercely.
Stazy looked at him searchingly—at the angry glitter in his eyes, the tautness of his cheek, his tightly clenched jaw and mouth. ‘Such as...?’ she prompted breathlessly.
‘This, for a start!’ He stood up abruptly, his hand tightening about hers as he pulled her to her feet seconds before he took her into his arms and his head swooped low as his mouth captured hers.
Stazy had always been reserved, never one for drawing attention to herself, but the absolute bliss of having Jaxon kiss her again—even in the middle of a crowded restaurant, with all the other diners looking on!—was far too wonderful for her to care where they were or who was watching.
She rose up on tiptoe to move her hands to his chest and up over his shoulders, her fingers becoming entangled in that gloriously overlong dark hair as she eagerly returned the heat of his kiss.
‘God, I needed that...!’ Jaxon breathed huskily long seconds later, as his mouth finally lifted from hers. He rested his forehead against hers. ‘You have no idea—’ He stopped speaking as the restaurant was suddenly filled with the sound of spontaneous applause from the other diners.
‘Oh, dear Lord...!’ Stazy groaned as she buried the heat of her face against his chest.
‘Show’s over, folks!’ Jaxon chuckled huskily as he picked up the screenplay before putting his arm firmly about Stazy’s waist to hold her anchored tightly against his side. The two of them crossed the restaurant.
‘Sir Geoffrey has already taken care of the bill, Mr Wilder,’ the maître d’ assured him as they neared the front desk. He handed Stazy her black jacket. ‘And may I wish the two of you every happiness together?’ The man beamed across at them.
‘Thank you,’ Jaxon accepted lightly, and he continued to cut a swathe through the arriving diners until just the two of them were standing outside in the cool of the autumn evening.
Stazy had never felt so embarrassed in her life before—at the same time she had never felt so euphorically happy. Jaxon had kissed her. In front of dozens of other people. Not only that, but he hadn’t denied the maître d’s good wishes. Of course he had probably only done that as a means of lessening the embarrassment to them all, but even so...
Jaxon had kissed her! And she had kissed him right back.
‘Do you think you could stop thinking at least until after we’ve reached that “somewhere more private”?’ he prompted persuasively.
Stazy looked up at him uncertainly. ‘Where do you want to go?’
He shook his head. ‘Your apartment. My apartment. I don’t give a damn where we go as long as it’s somewhere we don’t have an audience!’
Stazy gave a pained frown and looked up at Jaxon in the subdued light given off by the streetlamp overhead. ‘I’m not sure I understand...’ She was still too afraid to hope, to allow her imagination even to guess as to the reason why he had done something so outrageously wonderful...
‘It’s simple enough, Stazy. Your place or mine?’ Jaxon pressured as the taxi he had hailed drew to a halt next to the pavement.
‘I—yours,’ she decided quickly; at least she would be able to walk out of Jaxon’s apartment whenever this—whatever ‘this’ was!—was over. With the added bonus that when Jaxon had gone she wouldn’t have to be surrounded by memories of his having been in her own apartment.
Jaxon opened the taxi door and saw Stazy safely seated inside, giving the driver his address as he climbed in to sit beside her. ‘Come here—you’re cold.’ He drew her into the circle of his arms after he saw her give an involuntary shiver in the lightweight jacket she wore over the cream dress. ‘Do you have to be anywhere in the morning?’
Her face was buried in the warmth of his chest. ‘It’s Saturday...’
‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ he rebuked lightly.
Probably because Stazy didn’t understand the question! Why did it matter to Jaxon whether or not she—? ‘Oh!’ she gasped breathlessly. She could think of only one reason why he might possibly want to know such a thing.
‘Yes—oh,’ he teased huskily. ‘And before your imagination runs riot I have every intention of keeping you locked inside my apartment until you’ve listened to everything—and I do mean everything—that I should have said to you three months ago. That could take a few minutes or could take all night, depending on how receptive you are to what I have to say,’ he acknowledged self-derisively.
Stazy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Will there be any swashing or buckling involved in this...this locking me away in your apartment?’ she prompted shyly.
Jaxon arms tightened about her as he gave an appreciative chuckle. ‘I think there might be a lot of both those things, if it’s agreeable to you, yes.’
Stazy thought she might be very agreeable...