- -
- 100%
- +
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
‘HEY, Sian, have you heard the news—Jarrett King is coming back!’ Ginny cried excitedly as she bounded back into the office, her short dark hair framing her gaminely attractive face, her eyes a deep smoky blue, her lashes long and dark.
Jarrett King is coming back… Sian had waited three years to hear those words, and now it was too late!
Her hands shook as she continued to file the cards away under the name of the animal’s owner, morning surgery in this busy veterinary surgery over half an hour ago; the daily ritual of putting the cards back in the files was part of her job as receptionist and secretary.
‘Sian, did you hear what I said?’ Ginny had just come back from an early lunch, an afternoon of operations as her brother, Chris Newman’s, assistant ahead of her. ‘I said—’
‘I heard you.’ Sian stood up to put the drawer back in its slot before going on to take out the next drawer. ‘Someone has been in these files again,’ she muttered, taking a P card out of the R section and refiling it.
‘Probably Chris,’ his sister dismissed, sitting on the edge of Sian’s desk in the reception area. ‘He’s hopelessly untidy. Mum’s in despair of him at home.’
Sian knew all about Chris’s untidiness, and of Sara’s constant complaining about it, and she preferred to think of it as forgetfulness. Chris was a dedicated vet, often preoccupied, and hopeless when it came to the paperwork involved. Luckily Sian had been able to take away most of the pressure of that since coming to work for him two years ago.
Ginny looked put out. ‘Aren’t you in the least interested in the fact that Jarrett King is coming to Swannell?’
Again that slight trembling of her hand at the mention of his name, even after all this time. ‘Should I be?’ Sian asked coolly, marvelling at the way she could remain so composed.
But with her flaming red hair and fiery hazel eyes she was the level-headed one of her family, the one who thought with logic and not emotions, and she knew that just because Jarrett was coming back here it didn’t follow that she would see him. The opposite, she would, have thought!
Sian moved about the office with all the grace of a young gazelle, her legs long and shapely, her body curved in all the right places for her gender, but slenderly so, the brown tailored skirt and fitted cream blouse giving her a look of cool efficiency.
‘I would have thought so,’ Ginny continued stubbornly.
Sian’s dark brown brows rose, her lashes the same naturally dark colour. ‘I don’t understand your interest in the man, Ginny,’ she mocked gently. ‘He’d moved from Swannell before you even came to live here.’
‘Everyone knows of Jarrett King,’ the other girl scorned; she was a girl of Sian’s own age, twenty-two, and had been happily married to the other vet in the practice, Martin Scott, for the last eighteen months.
And Ginny was right, everyone did know of Jarrett King. At least, in Swannell they did. He was the local man made good, the one who had left this small town to control a multi-million-pound building empire in America, taking over from his uncle. For years Jarrett had run the English side of the business, but he had soon put his own personalised stamp on the whole of the King building empire. Yes, everyone knew Jarrett King in Swannell, despite the fact that he had only lived here for five years before leaving, and none better than her.
‘And I heard that you more than knew him once,’ Ginny added slyly.
Sian’s breathing seemed to stop—and then start again. ‘Really?’ she enquired coolly. ‘I won’t ask which gossip told you that.’
‘And I won’t tell you! Oh, Sian, I didn’t mean to be bitchy,’ Ginny was genuinely contrite, the two of them had a good friendship, ‘but I thought you would show more interest than this.’
Sian smiled. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, love, but Jarrett King’s comings and goings to Swannell don’t interest me in the least.’
‘He hasn’t been here for three years—you make it sound as if he flits back and forth from America all the time!’
Sian shrugged. ‘I doubt he’ll stay long this time.’
‘I heard—’
‘Ginny, for God’s sake get in here!’ Chris stood agitatedly in the doorway to the surgery. ‘I’ve been waiting for you for over ten minutes. I’d like to get started—if you wouldn’t mind?’ he finished with biting sarcasm.
‘I don’t mind at all, brother dear,’ Ginny smiled sweetly.
‘Well?’ he prompted impatiently as she made no effort to join him.
Ginny looked unimpressed with his anger. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’
He closed the door, muttering something about the unreliability of working with one’s family.
Ginny grinned. ‘He knows I’m a damned good assistant.’
‘Modest too,’ teased Sian, relieved to have the pressure off her.
Ginny slid off the desk-top. ‘I suppose I’d better go and help him, he might do the unexpected and get nasty if he’s kept waiting any longer.’
‘That didn’t seem to bother you a few seconds ago,’ Sian laughed, feeling on safer ground now that they were no longer talking about Jarrett.
Ginny grimaced. ‘I lived with him for twenty years, and he doesn’t frighten me. He could have paid you a bit more attention, though. You are engaged.’
‘We’re also at work,’ Sian reminded her dryly.
‘So what, Martin often sneaks me a kiss.’ Ginny walked to the door. ‘But not Chris. I don’t know what you see in him.’ She frowned.
Sian laughed. ‘That’s because you’re his sister.’
‘Maybe,’ Ginny smiled, going through to the surgery.
As soon as she could Sian tidied up her desk and left for the afternoon, locking the door behind her. The afternoon was hers until four, when she came back for the evening surgery.
At least, it should have been. But she had the shopping for lunch to do, had to get home in time to cook the meal for her father and sister. They always had a hot meal at lunchtime; her own job at the surgery and her sister’s job as a hairdresser meant it wasn’t practical to cook in the evenings, and they just grabbed a snack when they got in.
But today she didn’t shop with her usual speed, finding herself thinking of Jarrett in spite of herself. Could he really be coming back to Swannell? Could he already be back? After three years it didn’t seem very likely, but even so she was wary as she walked around the shops, thinking she was going to walk into him around every street corner.
Swannell was a small rural town, and Sian’s family were known to most people; she acknowledged several people as she bought the meat for lunch. She received curious looks in return to her open smile, and it began to dawn on her that Ginny could actually be right about Jarrett’s return. Most people in this town knew of her association with Jarrett in the past, and they would be curious as to her reaction to his return now. Thank goodness she had been pre-warned by Ginny!
Her smile was bright and assured as she made her way to the Victorian-style house that was the home of her father, her sister and herself, her mother having died several years ago. The yellow Mini in the driveway told her that Bethany was already at home.
There was no sign of her sister in the kitchen, but the radio could be heard playing upstairs. Sian began to unpack her shopping, putting on the grill to cook the steak. Bethany would soon come down when she smelt the food cooking.
Sian’s movements were automatic, her thoughts disturbed. If Jarrett really were coming back, and it looked as if he was, then it was inevitable that they should meet at some time; the town was hardly big enough for them to ignore each other. How was she going to stand that? She was the calm, practical one, and yet about Jarrett she had certainly never been either of those things.
But she was an engaged lady now, with a solitaire diamond ring on her left hand that said her heart and loyalty belonged to Chris. The mad, impetuous feelings she had once felt for Jarrett were a thing of the past, belonged to her childhood. As he would find out if he ever tried to remind her of them.
But she had no reason to suppose Jarrett would even remember her; she was probably one of the women he would rather forget, her stubbornness where he was concerned meaning that for once Jarrett hadn’t had things completely his own way. And three years was a long time, a very long time.
‘Hi,’ her sister came into the kitchen, throwing her apple-core into the bin. ‘I couldn’t wait,’ she grimaced at Sian’s disapproving look, and sat down at the kitchen table, wearing denims and a loose blouse, her usual attire for working in the hairdressing salon. With her baby-blonde curls and placid blue eyes Bethany was the fiery one of the family; their father often teased them about their mixed-up natures.
‘Lay the table,’ Sian instructed her sister, wondering how Bethany ever managed to keep her slender figure with the amount of food she ate.
With a shrug Bethany did as requested. ‘Hey, guess what I heard today?’ Her expression suddenly brightened. ‘Guess who’s coming back to town?’
‘Jarrett King,’ Sian answered easily, more than ever glad Ginny had pre-warned her. Bethany had known all about Jarrett and herself in the past, and she felt relieved to be able to remain unruffled in front of her sister.
Bethany frowned her disappointment. ‘How did you know?’
‘News travels fast in a place this size,’ Sian shrugged.
‘And I thought I had a hot piece of gossip!’
‘Don’t worry,’ she smiled. ‘You probably have. Ginny just got in first.’
‘She always does,’ Bethany said without rancour. ‘Still,’ her expression brightened again, ‘isn’t it exciting about Jarrett coming back?’
Exciting? That was the last thing Sian would have called it! Three years, three years he had been away, and he had to come back now. Not next year or the year after that, when it wouldn’t have mattered, but now.
‘As I remember it, you never liked him,’ she reminded her young sister.
Bethany flushed. ‘I was a child three years ago, only sixteen—’
‘You thought you were very grown up!’
‘Well, I wasn’t,’ she snapped. ‘Otherwise I would have known what a good-looking man Jarrett is.’
‘You’ve seen him!’ Sian’s voice was sharp, although as she was turned towards the cooker Bethany couldn’t possibly have seen the way her face had paled.
‘Not yet. But I’m going to. I’ll make sure of it,’ her sister said determinedly.
‘Bethany!’ Sian turned now, her eyes wide with disapproval.
‘Would you mind?’ Bethany arched blonde brows questioningly.
‘How do you know he’s good-looking?’ Sian didn’t answer the question, trying to assimilate in her mind the picture of Bethany and Jarrett together. She couldn’t see it at all!
‘Easy,’ her sister smiled. ‘I vaguely remember him. And I read this magazine article about him a few months ago.’
Sian frowned. ‘You never mentioned it.’
‘No, well … To tell you the truth, Sian, I wasn’t sure you would want to know. It was only a small article, and mainly about the company. But there was a lovely photograph of Jarrett along with it.’
Sian moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘How—how did he look?’
‘Gorgeous!’ Bethany grinned dreamily. ‘Really – gorgeous,’ she repeated enthusiastically. ‘His hair has been bleached blonder by the sun, and he has a deep, deep tan. It looks marvellous against his luminous green eyes. As for his body … !’
‘Bethany!’ Sian was deeply shocked by the desire in her sister’s face, especially for a man she knew only too intimately herself.
‘Well, he was wearing this pair of dark green swimming trunks—just,’ Bethany added pointedly. ‘And as it was a full-length photograph it didn’t leave much to the imagination.’
Sian remembered that body only too well, knew what magic it could induce when you least expected it. She had known that seduction herself, and she feared for her impressionably young sister. At nineteen Bethany was still very immature in some ways. Sian knew that that was partly her fault, that she had been over-protective of her sister since their mother died, but she knew that Bethany was much too naïve to cope with the complexities of a man like Jarrett. No one woman was experienced or sophisticated enough to cope with that.
‘He’s too old for you, Bethany,’ she said abruptly.
‘Only thirty-six.’ She gave Sian a sideways glance. ‘You’re only three years older than me, and you didn’t think he was too old for you.’
To explain to Bethany that Jarrett had been the reason for her own growing-up would be to reveal too much. ‘Well, I can tell you now that Daddy won’t approve. Especially if he hears the way you’ve been talking about him!’
‘You aren’t going to tell him?’ her sister groaned. ‘I haven’t even met Jarrett yet. At least give me a chance.’
Sian very much doubted that Jarrett would be interested in Bethany; youth and naïveté were something he had sworn to stay away from when he had walked out on nineteen-year-old Sian. In many ways Bethany was even more immature than she had been three years ago, and surely wouldn’t appeal to a man as jaded as Jarrett.
He sounded as if he had changed little, as if he had remained as lithe and attractive as ever. The local girls of Swannell wouldn’t know what had hit them when he came back to town!
Bethany’s thoughts seemed to be running along the same lines. ‘Of course I’ll have to get in first,’ she frowned. ‘I wonder where he’ll stay?’
Sian served the salad and steak for lunch, putting the hot potatoes in a vegetable bowl in the centre of the table, expecting her father at any moment. He always arrived home from his accountancy office at exactly one-thirty, and she always had his lunch waiting for him.
She shrugged. ‘The Swan,’ she named the local hotel and public house. ‘It’s the only place he can stay.’ Swannell didn’t boast more than the one hotel, although the one they had was of a good quality. The way Jarrett had been living the last three years it would need to be to get his patronage!
‘Mm, I suppose so.’ Bethany chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
Sian sighed. ‘Did it ever occur to you that he might be bringing his wife with him?’
‘Wife?’ Her sister blinked her surprise. ‘But he isn’t married—is he?’ she added uncertainly.
‘How would I know?’ Sian’s tone was tight.
‘Well, I—I just thought you might.’ Bethany frowned.
‘Oh, damn! You don’t think he is, do you?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Aren’t you interested?’
Interested? In whether or not Jarrett had a wife? Once upon a time Sian would have been very interested. But not any more. Jarrett could have had a dozen wives the last three years—and with his sex drive that was possible!—and she wouldn’t give a damn. She was engaged to Chris, wasn’t interested in Jarrett’s movements any more.
‘No,’ she answered flatly.
‘Well, I would have thought in the circumstances—’
‘Serve the steaks, Bethany,’ she interrupted abruptly. ‘I just heard Daddy come in.’
Their father’s arrival home was a welcome interruption to what was turning out to be a painful conversation, and her smile was bright and welcoming as he came into the kitchen. He was a man in his late fifties, his hair still thick, but iron-grey, his eyes the same deep blue as Bethany’s, his frame leaner than it used to be owing to a heart attack several years ago, the doctor ordering him to lose weight at the time, weight he had never regained. Sian took after her mother, the mother who had died while both girls were still at school.
‘What a welcome sight for any man!’ her father greeted jovially, sitting down at the table.
‘Steak and salad?’ Sian derided.
His smile deepened. ‘No, my two beautiful daughters waiting for me when I get home. Although no one would think you were sisters. I think I’d blame you on the milk man, Bethany, if you didn’t look exactly like my mother.’
It was a long-standing family joke about the difference between the two sisters, Bethany being tiny and explosive, Sian tall and cool, but they all laughed together nonetheless.
together. Yes, they were a very ‘together’ family, and it was something Sian had come to treasure over the years. She had taken care of her father and Bethany since she was fourteen years old, and when she and Chris married they intended to continue living here. Chris had easily fallen in with the idea of staying in the house that was more than big enough for all of them without them tripping over each other every minute of the day.
‘Sian’s more likely to be the result of the milkman,’ Bethany teased. ‘He has red hair!’
‘So he does,’ their father chuckled.
Sian was used to this playful teasing, but knew that with her red hair and hazel eyes she looked exactly like her mother.
As usual lunch was a lighthearted affair, Jarrett King seemingly forgotten by Bethany for a few minutes. Their father left to return to his office at two o’clock, and Bethany disappeared upstairs once they had done the washing-up together.
Sian followed her up a few minutes later, waiting until her sister had come off the telephone before talking to her. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting back?’ She frowned at the chaos that was her sister’s bedroom, clothes and magazines strewn everywhere.
‘Mm.’ Bethany had a self-satisfied smile on her face, unconcerned with the mess about her. ‘I just checked at the Swan. Jarrett’s due there any day now.’
Sian’s heart gave an unexpected lurch. So soon! Heavens, he could even turn up today. Her hunted feeling earlier while she shopped no longer seemed so far-fetched.
‘Bethany, it’s two-fifteen,’ she reminded her sharply.
‘So Gloria will have a moan at me for being late.’ Her sister seemed unworried. ‘She knows I’m the best stylist she has.’
‘Ex-stylist, if you don’t stop messing her about,’ Sian warned. ‘You were late this morning too.’
‘I needed those denims. And they weren’t ironed.’
‘I’ve already told you I haven’t had time to do the ironing yet—’
‘Sian, don’t you ever regret being a slave to Daddy and me?’ Bethany frowned. ‘You’ve been taking care of us for the last eight years, and you never moan or complain.’
Sian’s smile was tight. ‘I didn’t realise I was a slave, I thought I did it because we’re family.’
Bethany stood up to hug her. ‘We are,’ she smiled. ‘But don’t you ever feel like a break? Don’t you ever want to just say “to hell with you” and just leave?’
‘When you were an audacious little brat of thirteen I felt like it a lot of times,’ Sian laughed as Bethany blushed. ‘But I’ve never really considered leaving you and Daddy.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘Mummy—well, she expected me to take care of you both.’
‘But you were only fourteen yourself. Didn’t you—’
‘Bethany,’ she interrupted patiently, ‘Gloria may be very forbearing where you’re concerned—and that may be because you’re her best stylist,’ she mocked gently. ‘But—’
‘Who does your hair for you!’
‘You do,’ Sian laughed as her sister rose to her bait. ‘But even Gloria has her breaking point. You’re going to be at least half an hour late already.’
Bethany grimaced. ‘And I have Mrs Jones’s blue rinse to do,’ she groaned.
‘So much for a client’s secrets!’
Her sister laughed. ‘Careful, or I’ll tell everyone about that grey hair I found amongst all that red last week!’
‘It was blonde,’ Sian pretended indignation.
‘If you say so,’ Bethany taunted. ‘As you pulled it out we’ll never know—until you get two grown back in its place, that is.’
‘Get back to work!’ Sian laughed.
‘I’m going, I’m going,’ Bethany picked up a magazine and handed it to Sian. ‘I found that magazine with the article about Jarrett in,’ and she hurriedly left the room, running down the stairs, and the roar of the Mini’s engine soon told Sian her sister was on her way back into town.
She held the magazine in her hands for long timeless minutes without looking at it. She was afraid to look at it! And she was afraid of Bethany’s single-minded interest in Jarrett; she knew better than anyone how he could hurt her young sister with his cruelty and indifference to anyone’s wishes but his own.
Finally she had to look at the magazine article; she couldn’t stop herself any longer, her breath catching in her throat at the familiar figure in the photograph, the long muscled legs, the lean thighs only just covered by the green bathing trunks, the taut stomach and powerful chest, the whole of his body deeply tanned, his chest covered with a fine sheen of dark blond hair. Lastly she looked at his face—a face little changed, the jaw still as determined, his mouth still as forceful, sensually so, his nose long and hawkish, jutting out below deeply green eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes, his brows the same dark blond, a startling contrast to the sun-bleached fairness of his hair. Bethany was right, Jarrett was devastating, although she wondered at the cynicism in his eyes, the lines of decadence beside his nose and mouth. He obviously hadn’t spent the last three years longing for Swannell—or anyone in it.
She read the article with the picture, of how his uncle had died several months ago and he was now in complete control of the King Construction Company, of how he intended extending the company more in England.
A sudden panicky thought entered Sian’s mind. Suppose he was coming to Swannell with that purpose in mind? Suppose—No, the King office in Swannell had long since closed up; Jarrett’s move to America had forced that decison. He must just be coming here out of curiosity’s sake, to see the town that had once been his home, the town that had been his stepping-stone to the multi-millionaire he now was.
She forced herself to read the rest of the article, getting lost in the maze of assets that King Construction had, although the cryptic comment at the end of the article puzzled her somewhat. Obviously it was one of those ‘in’ magazines, the type that thought you already knew the life history of its victim, and the mention of some woman called Arlette meant nothing to her. ‘And while the more than attractive Mr King is in his native England, the lonely Arlette will be cooling her heels in New York as she waits for his return. If I were Mr King I would want the lovely Arlette with me!’ came the reporter’s personal comment.
Arlette. She didn’t need to be told that this was the latest woman in Jarrett’s life; it was all too obvious. She would be beautiful, of course, would have the sophistication and raw sensuality that he liked. God, that he demanded!
Sian threw the magazine down on the bed in disgust, going determinedly down the stairs. She had wasted enough time thinking about Jarrett for one day, she doubted he would waste a minute of his valuable time thinking of the naïve teenager he had left behind him without a qualm.
It was already after three o’clock, she would have to hurry if she was to do the housework before she went back to the surgery. She hated being rushed, and inwardly blamed Jarrett King for upsetting her routine. Everyone in Swannell knew he had made a success of his life—did he have to come back and flaunt it!