In a purely pampering sense, this was the best start to a vacation she’d ever had, though it was impossible not to think about Jake and how her departure from his life might be affecting him. Had he missed her at work today? Or was the new temporary assistant—chosen in a fit of female pique—providing the kind of distraction a playboy appreciated?
She glanced down at the magnificent diamond ring Byron had insisted she wear, arguing that it was a necessary prod to produce results. Her fingers automatically wriggled to catch the light in the facets of the fabulous gem. It was seductive, too, but not all the wealth in the world could give her what she really wanted. Could this pretend engagement to his grandfather pry Jake from his freewheeling life-style?
With a heavy sigh, she picked up her hairbrush, determined on not letting the answer to that nagging question mean too much to her. She had a life to live no matter what, and right now it was better to concentrate on presenting a picture of perfect grooming for Byron.
While the blond wig had worked effectively at the birthday party, she much preferred her own natural dark brown hair for real life and wasn’t about to change it. If Jake didn’t find her so desirable as a brunette, that was his problem, not hers. Such a superficial thing should be irrelevant. It was the person to person attraction that put depth into a relationship—enough depth for a marriage to work.
Having refreshed her make-up, Merlina checked her overall appearance in the cheval mirror before going downstairs for pre-dinner drinks with Byron. She was wearing one of her new dresses from yesterday’s shopping spree—a tan and white polka dot silk wrap-around with a wide tan leather belt cinching in her waist. It was both elegant and sexy and she loved it, especially teamed with the new Ferragamo tan and white shoes. A classy outfit for job interviews, she’d decided, and didn’t care how much it had cost.
If Jake did not rise to the occasion, she was determined to start afresh, setting aside everything linked to him, including the type of clothes she’d chosen to fit into the company image. Stodgy black suits were out, too. They’d been a hangover from what her family had expected of her, and coincidentally suitable for her previous job since her Queen Bee magazine boss had hated anyone stealing her limelight. Now she had the confidence to create her own style and stick to what she liked for herself.
It was also time she found a husband, though where she was going to find a man she’d want to spend her life with was definitely a problem. After being with Jake…she shook her head. Making comparisons was stupid. Besides, hadn’t she thought all along that Jake wasn’t marriage material?
Though Byron thought he might be, given enough provocation to realise that she was the one for him to marry. The hope that her benevolent match-maker’s reading of the situation was right kept pumping through her heart. Dreams did not die easily.
But whatever the outcome of Byron’s manoeuvres, she still had to look for a new position. There was no going back to what had been. Moving forward, one way or another, was the only option.
Having set her mind straight once again, Merlina went downstairs to the main reception room. As she entered it, she couldn’t help thinking that only the mega-wealthy would choose white sofas. They looked wonderfully dramatic set amongst beautifully polished antique furniture and the gloriously coloured rugs on the parquet floor, but they’d be hell to keep clean in any normal living area.
Byron, looking sartorially splendid in white trousers and shirt, teamed with a beige linen jacket, swung around from a cocktail cabinet from which he’d just collected two crystal flute glasses. He beamed at her at her as though she was the best plaything he’d ever picked up. No doubt about it. Jake took after his grandfather.
‘Good news, my dear!’ he cried triumphantly. ‘Harold has just informed me that Jake called this afternoon and he asked about you!’
Her pulse skipped haphazardly at this evidence that Jake hadn’t simply wiped her out of his life as she’d thought he might, his ego smarting at her bold and abrupt departure from the place he’d put her in.
‘It could just be a problem at work,’ common sense forced her to say.
Byron grinned at her. ‘He also asked when would we be home? I am confidently anticipating a visit from him this evening.’
‘He probably asked out of irritation that I wasn’t readily available,’ Merlina muttered.
‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ Byron mocked good-humouredly, his eyes twinkling devilment. ‘You’re forgetting our trump card.’
‘The engagement ring? But how could he know so soon?’
‘I’m betting that Vanessa Hall couldn’t wait to tell him.’
‘Why would she?’
‘Because she had her nose royally out of joint when Jake showed too much interest in you on Saturday. Trust me. I know women.’
Merlina couldn’t argue with that. Byron had married seven of them and no doubt had experience of many more. He oozed gleeful confidence as he strolled forward to place a glass of champagne in her hand and click his own glass against hers.
‘To success, my dear.’
Counting chickens before they hatched was not a good idea, Merlina reminded herself. Nevertheless, Byron’s toast was irresistible. She did hope for success, though she couldn’t feel the same confidence he did. They were both sipping the champagne when the butler made an entrance.
‘Yes, Harold?’ Byron invited.
‘I’ve just opened the security gates for Mr Jake, sir.’
‘Splendid! Right on cue!’
A host of butterflies invaded Merlina’s stomach.
The butler, a tall, thin man in his fifties, very conscious of his dignity, unbent enough to smile at his employer’s pleasure. ‘Will it be three for dinner, sir?’
‘I doubt my grandson will be in the mood to dine with us tonight. Hold dinner back until I give the word, Harold.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
Door chimes called Harold out of the room to greet their visitor and let him in.
‘That was quick,’ Byron commented with amusement. ‘Jake must have burned up the driveway. Are you primed for confrontation, Merlina?’
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This was it—the moment of truth! Jake’s reaction to the situation would tell her if she meant anything to him beyond a wound to his ego.
‘The game is on,’ she said with gritty determination.
Hearty approval smiled back at her. ‘That’s my girl!’