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‘I’d say it was irrelevant. Since when did hunger ever really play a part at dinner parties? I want you there—so go and get changed, Ashley, and I’ll see you later.’
And with this, he strode from the study, leaving Ashley feeling flustered and slightly rebellious. Could she get out of going? For a moment she was tempted—until she realised she had no choice other than to fall in with his plans. A refusal to attend might look like defiance and somehow she knew that he wouldn’t let her get away with it. She could easily imagine him storming up to her room and haranguing her until she complied with his wishes. Reluctantly, she went upstairs to shower and when she came out of the bathroom she could hear squeals of female laughter coming from the floor below.
Surveying the meagre contents of her wardrobe, she gave a grimace. She didn’t own the kind of clothes which were suitable for a fancy dinner in a millionaire home and she pulled out the only dress which was halfway presentable. It was her ‘best’ dress and she’d chosen it mainly because it was so quiet and unmemorable that she could wear it lots of times without people realising they’d seen it before.
In soft grey silk, it skimmed her body rather than clinging to it, and she wore it with a single rope of fake pearls. As always, she scooped her hair off her face, but she left the style slightly softer than usual. Because while Jack might have gone out of his way to remind her that she was a member of staff, she didn’t want to look as if she were about to start taking dictation!
Rarely had she felt so stricken with nerves as she went downstairs towards the sound of animated chatter. She kept telling herself that she had faced far worse in her life than a smart dinner party full of strangers. What about all the times she’d been sent to new foster parents—before becoming painfully aware that they were taking her in solely to earn themselves some extra money? And what about the times she’d seen disappointment on the faces of her newest ‘family’—when they realised that the mousey little orphan they’d been allotted was lacking in any attractive characteristics?
‘Ah, Ashley. Here you are.’ Jack looked up as she walked into the room and his eyes narrowed—leaving her wondering if her choice of outfit was an appalling one.
Judging by those worn by the other two women, it might well be because she felt like some mediocre shadow in comparison. A statuesque brunette was shimmering in a thigh-skimming scarlet silk dress which complemented her long nails, while a cool blonde wore a shade of blue which perfectly matched her eyes. There was only one other person present—an elegant man with dark russet hair and an expression of mischief on his face. The three of them looked up and smiled at Ashley, and she did her best to smile back.
Jack stepped towards her and propelled her forward, his hand resting briefly at the small of her back—as if he was afraid that she might simply turn tail and run away again. And Ashley couldn’t prevent her shiver of recognition as she felt him touch her. Did he remember the way they had kissed the other day, she wondered—or was kissing a woman no big deal to a man like him?
His brilliant black eyes gleamed down at her. ‘Ashley—let me introduce you to everyone. This is Kate.’
‘Hi, Ashley,’ said the blonde, in a soft, Scottish accent.
‘And this is.’ he paused as the knockout brunette glanced up at him and smiled ‘… Nicole.’
At this, Nicole’s smile became warmer. ‘Hello, Ashley—Jack’s told us all about you.’
‘He has?’
‘He certainly has. Says you’re the only secretary who’s never grumbled about his handwriting.’
‘That’s because I promised her a
bonus if she didn’t,’ said Jack, and they all laughed.
But Ashley’s smile felt forced—even though she prayed it didn’t look that way. Why had he insisted she make an appearance? Things were bound to be difficult after what had happened between them and surely this would only make them worse. Didn’t he realise that she felt out of place among his rich and elegant friends—no matter how friendly they seemed? And it didn’t help that he looked absolutely amazing in a black dinner suit which seemed designed to emphasise the broad shoulders and long legs.
She wished that she could wave a magic wand and find herself somewhere else—but what choice did she have other than to stick it out with good grace? Dazzled by the circlet of emeralds strung around Nicole’s slender neck, she realised that leaving now would do her no good except to make her look like an idiot instead of just feeling like one. She was going to have to endure this meal no matter how uncomfortable it might be—and she was going to have to do so with a certain amount of dignity. She turned to the russet-haired man with the mischief in his eyes and gave him a polite smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think Jack mentioned your name.’
The man laughed. ‘Then he should have his knuckles rapped for a lack of etiquette, shouldn’t he? My name’s Barry Connally and I’m delighted to meet you. You deserve a medal for working for someone as irascible as this brute—but in the absence of a medal, you’d better have a glass of champagne instead.’
‘No, thank you—honestly, I’m fine.’
‘Ashley doesn’t drink much alcohol. And anyway—’ Jack’s black eyes captured hers from across the room. ‘—I think dinner’s ready—so why don’t we go in?’
It felt strange for Ashley to troop into the dining room where she’d shared so many meals with her boss, when it had been just the two of them. Back then she’d found the setting rather formal until she had become used to it—but she’d never seen the room as dressed-up as it was tonight. Now this was formality, she thought, blinking a little as she looked around.
Christine and her team had certainly been busy because the table was laden with crystal, silver and crisp white linen which Ashley had never seen before. Tall, creamy candles flickered over bowls of white hyacinth which filled the air with their heavy scent. Rows of different knives and forks were lined up on either side of each place setting and she wondered just how many courses they were supposed to be eating. Would she know which implement to use, she wondered—or would she disgrace herself by eating with the wrong ones?
For Ashley, the meal felt a bit like an endurance test. It was strange to be sitting there, served by some young girls who had been shipped in from the village for the evening. She spent much of the meal in silence, listening to Barry Connally, who thankfully held forth with a constant stream of jokes.
But although Ashley was listening well enough to smile politely at each punchline, her attention was drawn to the interaction between Jack and the stunning brunette. Unwillingly, she watched as Nicole smiled up at him. How she giggled at pretty much everything he said. And how the glittering green of the emerald circlet at her neck drew attention to a magnificent cleavage, which tapered down to tiny waist. It might have been easier to bear if she’d been a bitchy kind of woman—but she wasn’t. In fact, she went out of her way to chat to Ashley with a manner which wasn’t in the least bit condescending. How could Jack fail to be mesmerised by such a woman?
After dessert, they all went into the library for coffee, where a fire roared in the grate and a tray of brandies and liqueurs had been placed on a side-table. It should have been a warm and welcoming scene but to Ashley it felt anything but—something she put down to the cold ache in her heart. Unnoticed, she crept over to the window and shrank down into a chair by the curtains, wondering how quickly she could make her escape—when Jack walked across the room and sat down beside her.
Up close, he looked even more magnificent, his aristocratic features seeming to have been hewn from marble and his raven hair gleaming blue-black in the firelight.
‘You’re very quiet tonight,’ he observed.
‘Am I?’ She gave a little shrug. ‘Everyone else is so bright and chatty that I hardly think my silence will be noticed.’
