Perfect Partner

‘Right,’ he chuckled.

‘Was there anything else?’ she asked distantly, just longing to go back to sleep. Melanie’s dinner party hadn’t just interrupted one day’s work, usually she would have been thinking of getting up by this time, and would have been typing before ten o’clock. She always typed her own work, she found it easier that way. Besides, she doubted anyone else would be able to read her almost microscopic writing.

‘Plenty,’ Jake drawled, not at all put off by her cold manner. ‘But I think it’s a little early in the day for an obscene telephone call.’

A reluctant smile curved her lips. ‘Don’t you have to get to work?’ She refused to show him how much he was disturbing her. His voice was so clear, so close, that it almost sounded as if he were in the room with her—in the bed!

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’d like to tell you to stay just where you are until tonight, but I don’t think you would agree.’

‘You’re right—I wouldn’t.’

‘Shame. Okay, Juliet, eight-thirty, right?’

‘Jake!’ she tried to catch him before he rang off.

‘Yes?’ he answered instantly. ‘You aren’t going to let me down, are you? I had to cancel an important engagement tonight so I could see you instead.’

‘With Patricia Hall?’ she queried sarcastically, feeling more awake by the second, remembering now that he was supposed to have a girl-friend.

‘Melanie is a busy little bee, isn’t she?’ he taunted. ‘I take it she was the one who supplied that bit of information.’

‘You take it right. And if Patricia Hall thinks she has a claim on you I’d rather not get involved.’

‘Pat doesn’t have a claim on me, no woman does. We see each other when we’re both free, which hasn’t been very often lately. My engagement was with one of the guests scheduled to be on my show. I usually like to have at least one meeting with them before we record the show.’

‘And who was it this time?’ Her interest quickened in spite of herself, for she found her fellow writers a fascinating subject.

‘Gregory James,’ Jake laughed. ‘He doesn’t bear grudges.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ she said dryly. ‘Although it could be quite fun to see him take a swing at you in front of the camera.’

‘That isn’t nice, Juliet,’ he chided teasingly.

‘No,’ she agreed, laughing.

‘I’ll see you later—when you can expect suitable retribution.’

Juliet lay back on the bed once he had rung off, wide awake now, her mind racing. Gregory James might not bear grudges, but she did, and in front of thousands of the public would be a perfect time to let Jake know who she really was. The idea mushroomed and grew, until she was sure it could work. It would take a little planning, good timing, and most of all, sheer nerve, but it would be worth it just to see the embarrassed surprise on Jake’s face.

How to arrange it, that was the thing. She couldn’t approach Jake herself, that would give the whole game away, so that left Michael. She wasn’t sure he would play along with something like this. It would be a deliberate move on his part to make a fool of Jake, and Michael was a businessman before he was her friend. Not that she could blame him for that, she was far from being the only author on his books, and Jake Matthews had been known to ruin a book’s sales with a few cutting words, something no sensible publisher would want at any cost.

Maybe Melanie could be persuaded to help; Michael rarely denied his wife anything. But first of all she would have to persuade Melanie!

‘No,’ her friend instantly refused once the idea was outlined to her.

Somehow she had known her friend was going to say that, had known the expensive lunch she had treated her to would be a waste of her time and money. And she had to admit that in the clear light of day, the fog of sleep completely cleared from her brain, that it was a childish idea. It could also have been harmful to her career.

‘I had a feeling you would say that,’ she grimaced. ‘Let’s just forget the idea.’

‘Michael would never stand for it,’ Melanie nodded. ‘Not with someone like Jake Matthews. Has he called you yet? I gave him your number this morning.’

‘I know. And the reason my number isn’t in the book is because I only want the people I personally give it to to be able to use it.’

‘Oh,’ Melanie looked abashed. But not for long! ‘But you didn’t mind my giving it to Jake, surely?’

‘I minded,’ Juliet said dryly. ‘Especially when he called me in the middle of the night.’

‘Don’t exaggerate,’ her friend smiled. ‘He spoke to me at seven-thirty, so it must have been later than that.’

‘Ten to eight is the middle of the night to me,’ Juliet groaned. ‘I don’t think I’ve recovered from the shock yet. I usually manage to crawl out of bed just after nine, ready to start work at ten.’

‘Lazy!’ Melanie smiled. ‘I always get up and eat breakfast with Michael at seven-thirty before he has to leave for work.’

‘God!’ she grimaced. ‘And then what do you do for the rest of the day?’

Her friend shrugged, playing with the spoon in her coffee cup, their meal over. ‘I keep busy,’ she evaded.

‘But how?’

‘I shop, see friends, organise the staff. I keep busy,’ she defended. ‘We can’t all be career-women. I happen to like making a home for Michael.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound critical.’ Juliet touched Melanie’s hand for forgiveness. ‘We just seem to have come a long way from the time you were going to be the best singer in the world and I was going to be the personal assistant and mistress of a millionaire.’

Melanie giggled. ‘You always did have a warped idea of love and marriage.’

Warped? Was it really? She had never thought so. She had a brain, she wanted to use it, and if that meant she could never have the ideal marriage Melanie seemed to have then that was the way it was going to be. Shopping, seeing friends, and organising a household for her husband’s pleasure and comfort was not something she could settle for in her life. Writing was a fundamental part of her life now, and she couldn’t live without it.

But she knew Melanie was happy, knew that she and Michael were planning to start a family, but it just hadn’t worked out yet. But when it did Melanie was going to make a wonderful mother. She wasn’t so sure her own maternal instinct was as strong. There was something missing from her feminine make-up, the fundamental ingredient that made all her friends settle for being a wife and mother while she still clung fiercely to her independence, to her individuality. It seemed to her that marriage was a series of compromises, that you were never truly happy because you could never quite have what you wanted, only what you and your partner decided to have.

Most people would say her attitude was selfish, and maybe it was, but at the moment she hadn’t seen a way of life that had more to offer.

‘You’ll forget this idea of going on Jake’s show, won’t you?’ Melanie frowned worriedly. ‘I’m sure it could be arranged but like I told you yesterday, underneath the charm there beats a heart of pure steel. He would crucify you, probably Michael too.’

‘I’ll forget it,’ she agreed. ‘But you’ll admit it was a good idea?’ she said ruefully.

‘Fantastic,’ Melanie nodded. ‘Although maybe you won’t think so after tonight, hmm?’

Juliet smiled. ‘You’re a romantic,’ she scorned.

‘So are you,’ Melanie flushed. ‘Underneath all that hard-headed career-woman attitude.’

‘And if it isn’t just an attitude?’

‘It is,’ her friend said with certainty. ‘I remember you when you had dreams as silly as mine.’

‘The only difference being you made yours come true.’

‘Yours still could—–’

‘No,’ Juliet shook her head firmly. ‘My dreams didn’t fit in with reality. Goodness,’ she lightened her tone, ‘we’ve become very serious all of a sudden! Do you suppose we’re getting old, we seem to have said a lot of “I remembers” today?’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Melanie scorned. ‘You’re only as old as you feel, and I feel—oh, at least—twenty-four,’ she grinned.

‘Come on,’ Juliet stood up, ‘I’ll drive you home.’

The idea of fooling Jake any more than she already had was mutually dropped. It had been a mad scheme that would probably have caused more trouble than it was worth. Besides, she had Mason’s Fortune to think of. Maybe the critical Mr Matthews would like the sequel to Mason’s Heritage. One could only hope.

The telephone was ringing when she let herself into her apartment and she hastily snatched up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she said tersely, breathing heavily from her haste from the lift.

‘I haven’t interrupted your work, have I, dear?’ her mother’s voice came very clearly down the line.

Juliet had suspected that the caller was Jake Matthews, he was being very persistent, but she was relieved, if surprised, that it was her mother. ‘I wasn’t working, I’ve been out,’ she explained, once again sitting down in the chair next to the telephone. If anything her mother chattered more than Melanie did!

‘Anywhere nice?’ her mother asked brightly.

‘Just to lunch with Melanie. Is there anything wrong, Mother?’ she asked sharply.

‘Can’t I just call my daughter to see how she is?’ Her mother sounded indignant.

‘It isn’t something you usually do,’ Juliet said dryly, easing her shoes off her feet, flexing the arches as she listened to her mother. Melanie had insisted on going round the shops for an hour before they had lunch, and her feet now ached.

‘No, well, I—I wondered if I could stay with you overnight next Friday.’

‘Next Friday?’ she frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Really, Juliet, couldn’t I just want to visit you?’

‘No,’ she said from experience.

‘Honestly, Juliet—–’

Her mother was as aware of the meaning of the word honesty as Michael was! ‘What’s happening next Friday?’ she sighed, the prospect of her mother descending on her, even for a day, filling her with apprehension. She and her mother invariably clashed when they met, although they could be friends from a distance.

‘Nothing is happening next Friday,’ her mother answered impatiently. ‘Have you forgotten, I’m going on holiday next Saturday?’

She was ashamed to say she had. Her mother was always flitting from one place to another, always in one country or another, financially secure and with a wanderlust that she settled every three or four months by visiting a country other than England.

‘Where are you off to this time?’ she asked resignedly.

‘South Africa.’

‘South Africa?’ she repeated incredulously. ‘Why South Africa?’

‘I’ve heard it’s very beautiful,’ her mother defended.

‘So have I. I just never imagined it would appeal to you.’

‘Well, it does. And I’m taking your Aunt Josephine with me this time.’

Poor Aunt Josephine! Her mother’s sister had lived with them when Juliet was a child, often taking care of her when her mother had gone off on her travels. It had surprised the whole family when Aunt Josephine had upped and moved to London fifteen years ago. Juliet’s mother hadn’t forgiven the other woman for years, although the two of them were now close again, and her mother often dragged the other woman off on her holidays with her. Juliet could only sympathise with her, although her good-natured Aunt Josephine didn’t seem to mind.

‘Why can’t you stay with Aunt Josephine?’ she queried suspiciously.

‘If you don’t want me to stay with you—–’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Juliet sighed. ‘I just wondered what Aunt Josephine had done that you weren’t going to stay with her.’

‘She hasn’t done anything,’ her mother snapped impatiently, ‘except get the decorators in. Honestly, Juliet, only your Aunt Josephine could decide to have her flat decorated the week before we go on holiday. The whole place will smell of paint,’ she added disgustedly.

Her poor aunt would never hear the end of it! ‘Friday night is fine by me. What time will you arrive?’

‘Don’t tie me down to times,’ her mother said in a harassed voice. ‘You know how I hate someone standing over me with a watch. Your father used to do it all the time.’

‘Let’s leave Daddy out of this, shall we?’ Juliet said tightly.

‘If you like,’ her mother accepted lightly. ‘Have either of your young men proposed to you yet?’

‘No, and I don’t want them to either.’

‘There’s no chance of your making me a grandmother, then?’

‘I don’t have to get married for that,’ Juliet taunted.

‘You’d certainly better! Juliet—–’

‘I’m only teasing you, Mother,’ she said dryly.

‘Well, don’t tease about things like that. Your father would have been shocked to hear you talking like that.’

‘Considering Daddy’s been dead for seven years, and you’ve had two other husbands since then, I’m surprised you can still remember how my father would have reacted to anything!’ Juliet drew in a controlling breath after her outburst. ‘I’m sorry, Mother, that was uncalled for.’ She bit her lip.

‘Yes, it was,’ her mother agreed with quiet dignity.

‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated abruptly.

‘You’ve said that.’

‘I—I’ll see you next Friday, then?’

‘Some time in the evening,’ her mother confirmed distantly before ringing off.

Oh dear, she had done it again! She and her mother always argued, no matter how much she tried to hold back her resentment for her mother’s other two marriages. Jim had been first, five years her mother’s junior, and they had divorced after only two years of marriage. The break-up had come as no surprise to Juliet, the passes Jim made at her behind her mother’s back showing her the marriage was not a success. Then had come Robert, eight years younger than her mother this time, although she had somehow managed to outlive him. Juliet lived in trepidation of being presented with a third stepfather, maybe even her contemporary in age this time!

The call from her mother had upset her, and now she somehow had to get into the mood for her evening out with Jake Matthews. Her work had gone to pot today, both her typing and her writing. She would have to make an early start tomorrow to make up for it, otherwise she would be getting behind her deadline, which wouldn’t please Michael.

Dinner, Jake Matthews had said. But where? She had no idea how to dress for the evening, although like most sensible women she had the versatile ‘little black dress’ that was suitable for most occasions. She decided to play safe and wear that; its style was demure enough until you saw the low back, its length just below her knees.

She had a long soak in the bath first, enjoying a relaxing read. She loved to read, but her daily schedule was such that she rarely got to indulge in this pleasure. Today seemed to be an unexpected holiday for her, so she became involved in one of the paperbacks she had been promising herself she would read for ages.

She became so involved in the new Sidney Sheldon novel that she almost forgot to get ready for Jake Matthews’ arrival at eight-thirty. She was reasonably pleased with her appearance, looking coolly attractive, her auburn hair newly washed and gleaming, her make-up light, her manner composed.

Jake arrived promptly at eight-thirty, his gaze appreciative as she opened the door to him. He was very dark and distinguished in a black evening suit and snowy white shirt, looking rakishly attractive.

‘Come in,’ she invited huskily.

‘Thanks.’ He closed the door behind him. ‘I really didn’t dream you, did I?’ He shook his head almost dazedly.

‘My mother would say no,’ she told him lightly. ‘She says I was a very difficult birth.’ The steadiness of his direct gaze unnerved her. ‘I—We both almost died.’ Heavens, he had to stop looking at her like that! She could feel the hot colour flooding her cheeks.

‘Thank God you didn’t,’ he groaned, pulling her effortlessly into his arms and gazing down at her for several timeless seconds. ‘It’s those eyes,’ he spoke almost to himself. ‘I’ve never seen eyes that colour before.’

Juliet licked her lips nervously, unable to break his gaze. ‘I—My father had eyes the same colour.’

Jake shook his head. ‘Not just that colour. Maybe a deep dark brown, but never the same colour. You’re unique!’

‘Of course I’m not,’ she dismissed lightly, moving away from him. ‘Shall we be on our way?’ It was too confined here alone with him in her flat, too intimate, especially as he couldn’t seem to stop looking at her.

‘I’ve booked a table in a quiet little restaurant I know,’ he held up her evening jacket for her. ‘I thought we could talk.’

What about? As far as she knew they had nothing in common except their love of books, and that was perhaps a subject they should stear clear of—she wouldn’t like them to get thrown out of this ‘quiet little restaurant’ for causing a scene. She couldn’t agree with his opinions, or the way he put those opinions across to the public, and she wouldn’t even pretend to do so.

But she needn’t have worried, they seemed to talk about every thing else but books, both of them staying off the subject, whether consciously or unconsciously.

Jake was an entertaining companion, and had lots of amusing stories that he related to her. Juliet couldn’t ever remember laughing so much in one evening, Ben and Stephen never made her laugh like this.

But they didn’t keep staring at her either, something Jake did all the time. There were plenty of beautiful women in the room, Jake’s idea of a quiet little restaurant was vastly different from her own, but he seemed not to notice any of them, keeping his attention exclusively on her.

She began to relax as she drank the delicious wine he had ordered with their meal, although he remained unmoved by it, even the large brandy he had after their meal not seeming to affect him. When she mentioned it he gave a husky laugh.

‘I have so many business lunches and dinners that I’m afraid I’m not as susceptible to alcohol as I used to be. Besides, I haven’t really drunk as much as you think I have, my wine glass was never empty when it was refilled.’

No, it hadn’t been, now she came to think about it. Every time her own glass was refilled Jake’s was only topped up. ‘You’ve made me drunk,’ she accused indignantly.

‘No, I haven’t,’ he smiled, his eyes deeply blue. ‘Maybe a little happy, but not drunk. Melanie told me you don’t relax enough, so I—–’

‘Got me drunk,’ she insisted.

‘No,’ Jake laughed. ‘You’re fine, really. And maybe you like me a little better now, hmm?’

‘And maybe I don’t,’ she said crossly. ‘You’re going to look pretty stupid if I collapse halfway out of the restaurant.’

His eyes twinkled with humour. ‘Do you think you might?’

‘Well, I—I feel all right,’ Juliet frowned. ‘But you never can tell.’

‘I can,’ his mouth quirked. ‘You’ll make it outside.’

And she did, Jake’s arm about her waist as he guided her. Surprisingly she didn’t feel drunk, just happy as Jake had said she would. What a know-it-all he was!

‘Do I get invited in for coffee tonight?’ He turned in his seat after parking the car outside her apartment building.

She thought of her neat little flat, of the incriminating typewritten sheets she had locked away earlier this evening so that he shouldn’t see them and realise she wrote for a living. No, she had left nothing lying about to point to her being Caroline Miles, although it was very late, too late really to ask him inside.

‘You had coffee at the restaurant,’ she pointed out.

‘I happen to like coffee,’ he mocked.

She wasn’t sure inviting him in was a good idea, but it would look childish if she didn’t. She was twenty-four years old, not sixteen, and should be perfectly capable of handling one amorous male. Lord, she was starting to sound like Sophie Mason now, the latest mistress of Mason House—and almost a century separated them!

‘Make yourself comfortable,’ she invited once they were inside her home. ‘I’ll just go and make the coffee.’

Jake eyed her mockingly. ‘You didn’t really think I came up here for coffee?’

Juliet put her jacket away in the hall closet. ‘Whether you did or not, that’s what you’re getting.’ She turned, only to find him suddenly dangerously close. ‘Excuse me—–’ she made to walk past him, her eyes on a level with the cleft in his chin.

His arms came about her. ‘Juliet …!’

She managed to extricate herself from his arms, moving a safe distance away—if there could be such a thing with this virilely attractive man! There was an aura about him, an air of sexual challenge, and it drew her like a magnet. But she had to be sensible. She already had two men in her life, a third would just be an unnecessary complication. Besides, Jake Matthews was the last man she wanted to become involved with.

‘Coffee,’ she insisted firmly.

He grimaced. ‘Do I get to kiss you after that?’

‘Perhaps.’ She went through to the kitchen, conscious of him watching her. He was always watching her! ‘Would you go and wait in the other room?’ she requested irritably.

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