Captive Loving. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
meet you inside,’ she told him, knowing she intended doing no such thing.
Matthew obviously knew it too. ‘I'll wait in the corridor for you,’ he made the answer Andrew should have made a few minutes ago.
‘All right.’ Jessica's tone was agitated. ‘I'll meet you outside the dance-room.’ Maybe she could avoid him in the crowd.
‘I'll wait for you outside here.’ He foiled that plan too.
She gave an impatient sigh, leaving by the door he opened for her, entering the room next door with a sense of relief.
Maybe if she stayed here long enough he would tire of waiting and go back to the party, although the determination in those tawny eyes hadn't given any indication of that. Matthew appeared to be a man who liked his own way, his arrogance was a fundamental part of his personality.
She hadn't realised she had noticed so much about him! She rarely noticed men at all, being shyly polite to the few male acquaintances Andrew had introduced her to in the past, and yet Matthew hadn't made it possible for her to behave either shyly or politely. He really was the most arrogant man!
But she couldn't sit here all night. She had left Andrew over fifteen minutes ago, and if she didn't soon return he was likely to come looking for her. Maybe Matthew would have returned to his wife by now.
No such luck. He was leaning back lazily against the wall when she stepped out into the corridor, his hands thrust casually into his trousers pockets, although he seemed to sense her presence immediately, straightening away from the wall, his eyes darkening appreciatively as he slowly studied her from the top of her gleaming head to the tips of her tiny feet.
He came forward to grasp her elbow, his hold possessive. ‘I wasn't sure I hadn't dreamt you,’ he murmured throatily, his gaze warm on her flushed face.
‘It's rather early in the evening to be drunk,’ Jessica said coldly.
‘I'm not drunk,’ he smiled. ‘At least, not from alcohol. I had an awful feeling you might try and slip away from me.’
She allowed herself to be steered in the direction of the room where the loud music and noisy chatter seemed to have risen to a crescendo, feeling relief that at least she wasn't to be alone when she went in there, although she would rather it hadn't been this man at her side.
Consequently her voice was sharp when next she spoke. ‘There was no way I could do that,’ she snapped.
‘I'm glad,’ he squeezed her elbow. ‘I don't want to lose you now I've found you.’
As soon as she found Andrew she would make sure she never spoke to this maniac again!
But Andrew was nowhere to be seen, not at the bar, and not on the dance floor. Her imagination told her only too accurately what he was probably doing—and it wouldn't be anything innocent, not if his latest mistress were here.
He could have behaved himself one evening, especially in front of his boss. She was sure it wasn't going to impress John Sinclair to see Andrew flirting with his own secretary!
‘You seem to be looking for someone,’ Matthew remarked deeply at her side.
‘I am,’ she snapped her resentment that he was still there. So far the evening was turning out to be a complete disaster.
‘The man you came with?’ he said shrewdly.
‘My husband, yes,’ she nodded, watching as he seemed to pale at her disclosure.
‘Your husband …?’ he repeated softly. ‘He's here?’ His hand dropped away from her elbow.
‘Oh yes,’ she gave a bitter smile.
‘Where?’ Matthew rasped.
Her eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘If I knew that I wouldn't be looking for him.’
He seemed rather dazed. ‘It never occurred to me that you were married … Have you been married long?’ he asked harshly.
‘Seven years,’ she supplied tightly. Andrew was still nowhere in sight.
‘God!’ he groaned, very pale, his eyes the yellow of a cat's. ‘Children?’
‘One,’ Jessica nodded. ‘A little girl.’
He put a hand up to his brow, all teasing gone now. ‘I—You didn't tell me you were married!’
‘You didn't ask.’ She had at last spotted Andrew. He was coming towards them, and fortunately he didn't look angry at all, smiling his most charming smile as his arm slipped about her waist.
‘Here you are, darling,’ he said in a softly chiding voice. ‘I've been looking everywhere for you.’
By the smell of his breath he had done most of his looking at the bar! ‘I've been looking for you too, darling.’ The last was added for the benefit of the man called Matthew, letting him know once and for all to leave her alone.
‘Your wife has been in safe hands, Baxter,’ he remarked tautly, his mouth twisting as he looked at Andrew.
‘Jessica hasn't been bothering you, sir?’ Andrew asked anxiously, all his earlier contempt gone from his voice.
Sir? Jessica stiffened. This man must be one of Andrew's bosses! Oh God, she hadn't said anything that could have upset him, had she?
‘Not at all,’ Matthew replied easily, his eyes narrowed. ‘Although we haven't really had the opportunity to introduce ourselves properly.’ He looked expectantly at Andrew.
‘My wife Jessica,’ he instantly introduced. ‘Jessica, this is Matthew Sinclair, the owner of Sinclairs.’
Not just one of Andrew's bosses—the boss!
SHE should have known, should have guessed by Andrew's charming manner just now, that the man she knew simply as Matthew was someone important. No, not just someone important, he was the man Andrew most wanted to impress. And he had been flirting with her shamelessly.
She looked up at Andrew. ‘I thought that was John Sinclair?’
It was Matthew who answered her. ‘I am John Sinclair, but so was my father. I prefer to use my second name rather than be called Young John Sinclair.’ His mouth twisted derisively.
Jessica looked at him with new eyes, no longer seeing the man who had tried to pick her up a few minutes ago, now seeing the authority that was second nature to him, his autocratic bearing. He was everything the wealthy owner of Sinclair's should be, Sinclair Office Supplies having tentacles all over the world, and she should have seen that in him from the first.
‘Your wife had just promised me a dance,’ he told Andrew. ‘That is, if you have no objection,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘No, of course not,’ Andrew answered, as Jessica had known he would, flushing his pleasure that Matthew Sinclair had chosen his wife out of all the other females in the room; most of them were just waiting for the owner of the firm to notice them.
‘Jessica?’ Matthew Sinclair quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.
‘I——’ She broke off her refusal as Andrew's fingers bit painfully into her waist. ‘I would love to,’ she amended, knowing she would never hear the end of it if she turned this man down. Andrew would surely never forgive her. And those threats of divorce earlier had sounded genuine enough.
They were the cynosure of all eyes as they stepped on to the dance floor, the fast disco-sound giving way to a slow love song, couples moving naturally into each other's arms as they swayed together to the music.
‘I couldn't have chosen better myself,’ Matthew murmured as the theme from Love Story became audible. He slowly pulled