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Did his father’s company have a private jet at its disposal? Greg was sure that it probably did. He could take Jess somewhere sunny for Christmas, an island that was secluded enough for them to make love on the beach, without any fear of being discovered.
Greg reconsidered for a moment. Was that really so practical? Maybe not up till now but, then, he’d never had Pat’s unending resourcefulness at his disposal. If anyone could locate a deserted tropical island for Christmas, Pat could.
For the purposes of reorientation he ran through the part about making love on the beach again. Then once more, with a set of subtle but enormously rewarding amendments. He could almost taste the salt on her warm skin.
He could afford to give Jess everything. She didn’t need to work, she could do whatever she pleased. She could travel with him, and a little charity work would appease her need to help others.
Was he serious? The thought of Jess giving up her career in favour of sipping cocktails and doing a little charity work was about as likely as… Well, it was impossible. There had to be something else.
There was something else. He would have to dump the company he’d inherited from his father and had been struggling to save for the last eight months, but it was surprising how good the prospect felt. That would leave him with nothing to worry about other than how tall a Christmas tree the ceilings of his apartment would allow, and nowhere else to spend his time other than with Jess. Presents in the morning, a visit to the hospital to see how the carol singers were doing, and then on to his mother’s for one of those late lunches that she did with such aplomb.
He’d so hoped…
Greg put up a struggle before he reluctantly let go of the fantasy and it disappeared back into his subconscious. This wasn’t the time for hopes. Dreams either, although if this wasn’t one then Greg wasn’t sure what he should call it. Did he really think that he was going to be able to watch Shaw Industries go down, just because he had somewhere else to be? Would Jess ever respect him for abandoning the people who had worked for his father and now worked for him? People who had families to support, workers who were close to retirement and would struggle to find another job.
He had to face facts. His father, the ultimate autocrat, had structured the company to fail without him, or his son, to provide strong leadership. Like it or not, he was the only one left now. He was going to have to find a way to balance it all, something for the company, something for Jess, and whatever was left over for himself. He couldn’t think about the chances against that working. All he could do was make a lunge for the slim thread of hope that it might.
CHAPTER SIX
JESS WOKE UP alone. The clock registered ten minutes past midnight, and she stretched her limbs and turned over to go back to sleep.
When had that happened? This inability to sleep without Greg beside her? She turned over again, burrowing deep into the duvet, and then gave up.
He wasn’t downstairs in the living room, and Jess skittered over to the fireside, still warm from the glowing embers in the grate. Pulling on her dressing gown and socks, which still lay discarded on the floor, she made for the kitchen.
Not there either. It was as if Greg had vanished completely, sucked back into the vortex of the real world. She wasn’t quite ready for that. Just a little more time in this no-man’s land, where the unthinkable might just come true.
She padded back upstairs, wondering whether she should put her head around all the bedroom doors. Then a line of light under the door at the end of the corridor, which led to the tower room, changed her mind.
The grandfather clock in the hallway started to go through the truncated chimes that heralded the quarterhour. Jess twisted the handle of the door, opening it quietly. Greg hadn’t bothered to strip the dust sheet off the chair, and sat on it with his back to her, seemingly staring out of the window at the moon as it hung silently in the sky.
‘Greg?’ Her breath streamed white in the cold air. ‘It’s freezing in here.’
If she’d crashed two trays together next to his head, he probably wouldn’t have jumped any further. He twisted round, a look of blank shock on his face.
‘What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Jess regretted the words immediately. You generally said that kind of thing to people who clearly hadn’t seen a ghost. For one moment she wasn’t quite sure whether she hadn’t hit the nail squarely on the head.
He recovered himself, reaching for her, and she let him pull her down onto his lap. ‘You feel solid enough.’
‘You’re checking?’
‘Best to be sure.’ He kissed her, taking his time, and something stirred inside her. Something that had already had its fill and ought to be fast asleep now.
‘What are you doing in here?’
He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get up for half an hour, rather than disturb you. I must have dozed off.’
‘I woke up and you weren’t there.’
His lip curled slightly, in obvious gratification. ‘Couldn’t sleep without me?’
‘You think it’s a good thing that you have a soporific effect on me?’
His eyes taunted her. ‘You think there was any danger of you going to sleep one minute before I let you?’
She planted a kiss on the end of her finger and transferred it to his forehead. ‘In other words, I’m like putty in your hands?’
He slipped his hand inside her gown, trailing his cool fingers across the warm skin of her leg, and she shivered with delight. ‘Looks as if you are.’
