Under the Boss’s Mistletoe

CHAPTER FIVE

AND why was she even thinking about it? Cassie asked herself crossly as she picked up her fork. Disappointed by her lack of response, Giovanni had taken himself off at last. Jake was obviously still in love with the not-quite-so-perfect Natasha, who had had her sensible head turned by Rupert.

Twirling spaghetti in her spoon, she forced her mind back to the conversation. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said when Giovanni had left. ‘If it’s any comfort, I don’t imagine Rupert will be easy to live with. Perhaps Natasha will change her mind.’

‘That’s what I’m hoping,’ said Jake.

That wasn’t quite what Cassie had been hoping to hear. I wouldn’t take her back if she grovelled from here to Friday was more what she had had in mind.

She sighed inwardly. Stop being so silly, she told herself.

‘In the meantime, I’ll go back to Wedding Belles and tell them that we’d still like a feature on the Hall, but we can’t manage the human-interest angle.’

Jake’s gaze sharpened. ‘I thought you said they wouldn’t do a piece without that?’

‘No, well, it’s not the end of the world. We can find other ways of promoting the Hall.’

‘They won’t reach the same market, though?’

‘Probably not.’

Jake brooded, stirring his fork mindlessly around in the fettucine. ‘To hell with it!’ he said explosively after a while and looked up at Cassie, who regarded him warily. ‘I’m damned if I’m going to let Rupert mess up my plans for the Hall, too. He’s made enough trouble! I say we go ahead with it anyway.’

‘We can’t do much about it without Natasha,’ she reminded him reluctantly.

‘Unless…’ Jake trailed off, staring at Cassie as if seeing her properly for the first time.

She stared back, more than a little unnerved. ‘What?’

‘Did you tell this editor Natasha’s name?’

‘No, I didn’t go into details. I just said the owner of the Hall was getting married.’

‘So I don’t really need Natasha-I just need a fiancée?’

‘Well, yes, but-’

‘So why don’t I marry you?’

There was a rushing sound in Cassie’s ears. She went hot, then cold, then hot again. ‘Me?’ she squeaked. ‘You don’t want to marry me!’

‘Of course I don’t,’ said Jake, recoiling. ‘God, no! But you said yourself that it doesn’t have to be a real engagement. If all we need is to have a few photographs taken, why shouldn’t you be the bride-to-be?’

‘Well, because-because-’ Cassie stuttered, groping for all the glaringly obvious reasons why she couldn’t, and bizarrely unable to think of any. ‘Because everyone would know it wasn’t true.’

‘You just said you didn’t give the magazine any names.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of them. I was thinking of all the people who know perfectly well we’re not engaged.’

‘Who’s going to know?’

‘Anyone who sees the article,’ she said, exasperated, but Jake only looked down his nose.

‘I don’t know anyone who’s likely to read Wedding Belles,’ he said.

Cassie glared at him. ‘It’s not just about you, though, is it? I know masses of people who read it for one reason or another, and if one of my friends gets whiff of the fact that I’m apparently engaged without telling anyone I’ll never hear the end of it!’

Jake couldn’t see the problem. ‘The article won’t be published until next year,’ he said dismissively. ‘We can worry about what we tell people then. Rupert will never stick with Natasha for more than a few weeks, so there’ll be no reason not to tell everyone the truth then. We’ll say it was just a marketing exercise.’

‘And what about when the Wedding Belles photographer comes down to take pictures of us supposedly planning our wedding at the Hall?’ asked Cassie, picking up her spoon and fork once more. ‘It’ll be all over Portrevick in no time. You know what the village is like. We’d never be able to keep it secret. Rupert’s got some fancy weekend place in St Ives; what’s the betting he’ll hear about it?’

‘What if he does? It wouldn’t do him any harm to think that I’m not inconsolable.’

‘No, but if he gets wind of the fact that you’re just pretending…’ Cassie trailed off and Jake nodded.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Rupert wouldn’t hesitate to make trouble for me in whatever way he could.’ He looked across the table at Cassie. ‘In that case, let’s make it true,’ he said.

She stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Let’s make it a real engagement,’ he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Or, at least, not a secret one,’ he amended. ‘We can tell everybody who needs to know, and do the photographs for the article quite openly. We’ll know it’s not a real engagement, but we don’t have to tell anyone else that.’

Let’s make it a real engagement. Cassie was furious with herself for the way her heart had jumped at his words, in spite of the fact that only a matter of minutes ago he had been recoiling in horror at the very idea. ‘Nobody would believe it,’ she said flatly.

‘Why not?’

‘Come on, Jake. I’m hardly your type, am I? Are you really going to ask people to believe you took one look at me and fell in love with me? They’d know it wasn’t true.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Jake studied her over the rim of his glass. It was warm in the restaurant, and she had shrugged off the silky cardigan, leaving her shoulders bare. She was a warm, glowing figure in the candlelight. ‘I can think of more unlikely scenarios,’ he said.

His gaze flustered Cassie, and she tore her eyes away to concentrate fiercely on twisting spaghetti around her fork. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘And when was this supposed to have happened?’

‘How about when you walked into my office and fell into my arms?’

Cassie felt her colour rising at the memory. ‘And you thought, “I’ve been waiting all my life for someone clumsy to come along”?’

‘Perhaps I’ve had a thing about you since I kissed you at the Allantide Ball,’ Jake suggested. ‘Perhaps I’ve been waiting ten years to find you again.’

It was clear that he was being flippant, but there was an undercurrent of Something in his voice. Cassie did everything she could to stop herself looking up to meet his eyes again, but it was hopeless. Something stronger than her was dragging her gaze up from the fork to lock with Jake’s. She could almost hear the click as it snapped into place.

His eyes were dark and unreadable in the candlelight, but still her heart began that silly pattering again, while her pulse throbbed alarmingly.

She swallowed. ‘I don’t think that sounds very likely either.’

‘Well, then, we’ll tell it exactly as it was,’ said Jake, sounding infuriatingly normal. How come his heart wasn’t lurching all over the place at the very thought of falling in love with her? He clearly wasn’t having any trouble breathing, either.

‘We met when you came to discuss developing the Hall as a wedding venue. Then we drove down to Portrevick together.’

‘And on the way we fell madly in love and agreed to get married right away?’ said Cassie, who had managed to look away again at last.

Jake shrugged away her scorn. ‘You’re the one who believes in that kind of thing,’ he reminded her. ‘If we say that’s what happened, why would anyone believe it wasn’t true?’

‘I can’t believe you’re making it all sound so reasonable,’ she protested.

How had they got to this point? It was as if the whole evening had been turned on its head. When she arrived, she had been cock-a-hoop at the idea of the magazine feature, and her only concern had been how to convince Jake to go for it. Now it was Jake talking her into an engagement just to make sure the article went ahead. How had that happened?

‘Look, it makes sense.’ Jake was clearly losing patience. ‘You’re the ideal person to feature in the article. You know all about weddings. You’ll be able to say all the right things and make sure the Hall comes out of it looking beautiful.’

‘That’s true, I suppose.’ Cassie looked at the fork she had laden so carefully with spaghetti and put it down. She had lost her appetite. ‘But what about you?’ she said hesitantly.

‘What about me?’

‘Won’t you find it very difficult?’

‘It might be a bit of a struggle to look interested in table decorations,’ said Jake. ‘But I expect I can manage if it’s just one or two photo sessions. I won’t be required to do much else, will I?’

‘I wasn’t thinking about that,’ said Cassie. ‘I was thinking about what it would be like for you to have to pretend to be happy with me when I know how you must be feeling about Natasha. I’d be devastated if it was me.’

‘At least I won’t look it,’ said Jake, wondering how he did feel.

Angry, humiliated-yes. But devastated? Jake didn’t think so. His overwhelming feeling, he decided, was one of disappointment in Natasha. He had been attracted by her beauty, of course, but just as much he had liked her intelligence and composure. He couldn’t believe that she would lose her head over someone like Rupert, of all people.

Jake remembered telling Cassie how well he and Natasha were matched. Natasha was perfect, he had told her. And she had been. She had never irritated or distracted him the way Cassie did, for instance. She was everything he needed in a woman.

More than that, when he looked at Natasha, Jake had felt as if he had left Portrevick behind him once and for all. With a beautiful, accomplished, sexy, successful woman like Natasha on his arm, he’d been able to believe that he had made it at last.

And then Rupert Branscombe Fox had lifted his little finger and she had gone.

Jake’s jaw tightened and he stared down at the wine he was swirling in his glass. Rupert’s condescension could still reduce him to a state of seething resentment. Rupert in return would never forgive him for humiliating him in that stupid fight, or for being the one his uncle had entrusted with his not-inconsiderable fortune.

‘Rupert wants me to be devastated,’ he told Cassie. ‘He wants me to feel humiliated and heartbroken. He wants me to have to tell everyone that my beautiful girlfriend has dumped me for him. I’ve got no intention of giving him that satisfaction.’

Jake set down his glass and looked directly at Cassie. ‘You asked if I’d find it difficult to pretend to be in love with you instead of Natasha-the answer is that it wouldn’t be half as hard as losing face with Rupert. I’d do anything rather than do that. I’m sorry about Natasha, but this isn’t about her. It’s between Rupert and me.’

‘Getting engaged to me would make it look as if Rupert had done you a favour by taking Natasha off your hands,’ said Cassie slowly. She knew that Jake and Rupert had never got on, but she hadn’t realised the rivalry between them was still so bitter.

‘Exactly,’ said Jake. ‘You’d be helping me to save face, and that would mean a lot to me. I’m not proud. I’ll beg if you want me to.’

‘I don’t know.’ Cassie fingered the wax dribbling down the candle uncertainly. ‘If we’re pretending to be engaged in Portrevick, word’s bound to get back to my parents. What are they going to think if they find out I’m apparently marrying you and haven’t told them?’

Jake shrugged. ‘Tell them the truth, then. What does it matter if they know? They’re not going to rush off to Wedding Belles to tell the editor their daughter is telling a big fib, are they?’

‘No, but they might rush to tell Liz and my brothers that I’ve got myself in a stupid mess again,’ said Cassie, who could imagine the conversation all too clearly: why can Cassie never do anything properly? When is she going to grow up and get a proper job that doesn’t involve silly pretences?

‘I’m sick of being the family failure,’ she told Jake. ‘I wanted to show them that I could be successful too. That was why I so pleased when you gave us the contract to turn the Hall into a wedding venue. I rang my parents and told them I had a real career at last.’

She squeezed a piece of wax between her fingers, remembering the warm glow of her parents’ approval. ‘I don’t want to tell them my great new job involves pretending to be in love with you.’

‘Do you want to tell them you’ve lost your great new job because you weren’t prepared to do whatever it took to make it work?’

Cassie dropped the wax and sat back in her chair. ‘Isn’t that blackmail?’ she said dubiously, and Jake sighed impatiently.

‘It’s telling you to hurry up and make a decision,’ he said. ‘Look, if it’s such a problem, say we really are engaged, then when we’ve finished with all the photos you can tell them you’ve changed your mind and dumped me. If they remember me at all, I’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear it,’ he finished in an arid voice.

Cassie turned it over in her mind. It might work. Of course, the best scenario would be that her family never got to hear about her supposed engagement at all, but if they did get a whiff of it she could always pretend that Jake had swept her off her feet. It was only three months to Christmas. She could easily find excuses not to take him home in that time.

Tina might be a little harder to fool, especially as she was on the spot in Portrevick, but there was no reason why she shouldn’t tell her old friend the truth. Tina could be trusted to keep it to herself-and besides they might need her to pretend to be the bridesmaid.

Anyway, it didn’t sound as if she had a choice. Cassie wasn’t entirely sure whether Jake was serious about making the engagement a condition of the contract, but she wasn’t prepared to push him on it. He had been hurt by Natasha, humiliated by Rupert, and was clearly in no mood to compromise.

And really, would it be so bad? Cassie asked herself. The article had been her idea to start with, and she still believed it would be just what they needed to kick-start promotion for the Hall. Of course, she hadn’t reckoned on taking such a prominent role herself, but Jake was right. She would be able to decorate the Hall exactly as she wanted without having to take Natasha’s wishes into account. She could recreate her dream wedding for the article.

Cassie felt a flicker of excitement at the prospect.

It might be fun.

It wasn’t as if they were planning on doing anything illegal or immoral, after all. A mock engagement would save Jake’s face, ensure a lucrative contract and her job at Avalon, if not a whole new career. Why was she even hesitating?

‘All right,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ll do it. But, if we’re going to pretend to be engaged, we’re going to have to do it properly,’ she warned him. ‘That means that when the photographer is around you’ll have to be there and be prepared to look suitably besotted.’

‘Don’t you think I can do that?’

Jake reached across the table for her hands, taking Cassie by surprise. ‘I’m sure you can,’ she said, flustered, trying to tug them free, but he tightened his grip.

‘I can do whatever you need me to,’ he said, turning her hands over and lifting first one palm and then the other to his mouth to kiss.

Cassie felt the touch of his lips like a shock reverberating down to her toes, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

‘See?’ Jake said softly, without letting go of her hands. ‘I can do it. More to the point,’ he said, ‘can you?’

The challenge hung between them, flickering in the candlelight.

Cassie swallowed hard. It was hard to think straight with his warm, strong fingers clasping hers, and the feel of his lips scorched onto her palms, but she retained enough sanity to know that the last thing she needed was to let him know how his touch affected her.

He had recoiled at the very idea of marrying her. Of course I don’t, he had said. Cassie suspected that Jake had been more hurt by Natasha’s betrayal than he was letting on. This was partly to be his revenge on her, partly a game, a pretence, a strategy to save his face and solve the problem of his unwanted responsibility for the Hall. That was all.

Which was fine. All she had to do was treat it like a game too, and remember that her strategy was to turn the Hall into the most sought-after wedding venue in the South West. She would prove to her family that she was not just a dreamer, but could be just as successful in her chosen field as they were in theirs.

So she drew her hands from Jake’s and laid them instead on either side of his face. ‘Of course I can, darling,’ she said, shivering at the prickle of the rough male skin beneath her fingers, and she leant forward across the table to brush a kiss against his mouth.

She felt Jake stiffen in surprise, and, although a panic-stricken part of her was screaming at her to sit back and laugh it off as a joke, another more persuasive part was noting that his lips were warm and firm and that they fitted her own perfectly, as if their mouths had been made for each other.

It felt so good to kiss him, to touch him, that Cassie pushed the panicky thoughts aside and let her lips linger on his. But that was a mistake, of course. Beneath hers, his mouth curved into a smile, and the next moment she felt his hand slide beneath her hair to hold her head still, and he began kissing her back.

And then they were kissing each other, their lips parting, their tongues twining, teasing, and Cassie murmured deep in her throat, smiling too even as she kissed him again, lost in the dizzying rush of heat and the terrifying sense of rightness.

Afterwards, she never had any idea how long that kiss had lasted. But when they broke apart at last she was thudding from the tips of her hair to her toenails, and Giovanni was standing by the table wearing a broad smile.

‘Client, huh?’ he said to her with a wink, but it was Jake who answered.

‘Not any more,’ he said. ‘We just got engaged.’

Cassie tossed and turned half the night, reliving that kiss. She had gone too far, just like her mother always said she did. A brief peck on the lips would have been enough to make her point, and she could have gone back to being businesslike-but, oh no! She had had to push it. She had had to kiss him.

She mustn’t let herself get carried away like that again, Cassie told herself sternly. This was just a pretence, and she mustn’t forget it. On the other hand, her job might have depended on pretending to be engaged to a man with wet lips and clammy hands. As it was, well, she might as well enjoy the perks, mightn’t she?

So she was in high good humour when she bounced into the office the next morning. She had never been engaged before. OK, she wasn’t really engaged, and she probably ought to be feeling more cross about having been effectively blackmailed into it, but at least it meant that she didn’t have any choice in the matter. If anyone-for example her super-achieving family-ever asked her how she came to do such a crazy thing, she could hold up her hands and say, ‘Hey, I was forced into it.’

Or perhaps it would be better to put a more positive spin on it. She didn’t want to look like a victim. She could narrow her eyes, look serious and explain that she was someone who was prepared to do anything-anything!-to get the job done.

‘Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,’ said Joss doubtfully when Cassie tried this line on her. Joss, like Tina, had to know the truth. ‘This Jake Trevelyan is a tough character. It was bad enough negotiating the terms of the contract with him!

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she said as Cassie’s face fell. ‘I’m delighted about the contract. But I’d hate to think you got hurt trying to save Avalon. I just think you should be careful about getting too involved with someone like that.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Cassie buoyantly. ‘Anyway, I’m not involved with Jake,’ she said, firmly pushing the memory of last night’s kiss away. ‘Pretending to be engaged is simply a way to promote Portrevick Hall as a wedding venue. I’m just doing my job.’

She was still in a breezy mood when she rang Jake at his office later that morning.

‘Hi!’ she said when his PA put her through. ‘It’s me. Your brand-new fiancée,’ she added, just in case he needed his memory jogging.

‘Hello,’ said Jake. He sounded cool and businesslike, and it was hard to believe that it was only a matter of hours since his lips had been warm and sure against hers.

‘I think you mean “hello, darling”, don’t you?’ Cassie prompted. ‘We’re engaged, remember?’

Jake sighed. ‘Hello, darling,’ he said ironically.

‘OK, the darling is good, but you might want to work on your tone,’ said Cassie, enjoying herself. ‘You know? A bit lower, a bit warmer…a bit more like you’re counting the seconds until you can see me again!’

‘Darling,’ Jake repeated obediently, and this time his voice was deep and warm and held a hint of a smile. Cassie’s heart skipped just a little, even though she knew he was just pretending.

‘Very good,’ she approved.

‘It’s not that it’s not wonderful to hear from you,’ he said, reverting to his usual sardonic tone. ‘But I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.’

‘I won’t keep you,’ she promised. ‘I just thought I’d tell you that I’ve spoken to Wedding Belles and broken the news that I’m the bride-to-be. I made up some story about being too shy to admit it before. I’m not sure if they believed me, but they’re not asking too many questions, which is a relief.’

‘Presumably they don’t really care as long as they get a decent story.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Cassie could feel his impatience to get off the phone. Just as well they weren’t really engaged, or she would have been hurt. ‘Anyway, we’re committed now.’

‘So what happens next?’ asked Jake without much interest. Cassie imagined him scrolling through his emails while he listened to her with half an ear.

But she could do businesslike, too. ‘I was just coming to that,’ she said. ‘It turns out that Wedding Belles is hosting a wedding fair at some fancy hotel this weekend. The opening party is on Friday night, and they want us to go. Apparently they’re inviting all the couples who are going to be featured in the magazine next year, and we’re getting a special preview of the show.’

She could practically see Jake grimacing at the idea. ‘Do we have to go?’

‘Yes, we do,’ said Cassie briskly. ‘This is the first part of the story. The photographer will be there, and we’ll meet the editor, so we’ll have to be on our best behaviour.

‘Besides,’ she said, ‘the theme of the fair is Winter Wonderland Weddings, so we’ll be able to pick up some ideas. Joss and I always go to the shows, but I’ve never been to the preview or the party before. It should be great.’

‘What goes on at a wedding show?’ Jake asked, not at all sure that he was going to like the answer.

‘Oh, they’re fantastic,’ Cassie assured him. ‘There’s everything you could ever need to plan a wedding under one roof. It doesn’t matter if you’re looking for a chocolate fountain or a tiara: you’ll find someone who specialises in providing just what you want for every stage of getting married, from the engagement party to the honeymoon. Oh, and there’s always a fashion show too. We don’t want to miss that.’

‘A fashion show,’ Jake echoed dryly. ‘Fabulous!’

‘It’ll be fun,’ Cassie told him.

Jake thought that it sounded as much fun as sticking pins in his eyes, but he was the one who had insisted that they go ahead with the article, so he could hardly quibble now.

Since the hotel was almost exactly halfway between their offices, they agreed to meet in the lobby at six-thirty on the Friday.

‘OK, I’d better go,’ said Cassie in the same brisk tone. About to switch off the phone, she paused. ‘Oh, nearly forgot,’ she said, and cooed, ‘Love you!’ in an exaggeratedly saccharine voice before spoiling the effect by laughing.

Jake put the phone down and sat looking at it for a long moment, her gurgling laugh echoing in his ears. Then he smiled unwillingly, shook his head, and pushed back his chair to go to his meeting, where everyone would be sane and sensible and dressed in shades of grey.

Jake looked at his watch as Cassie came tumbling into the hotel’s ornate lobby through the revolving door. ‘You’re late,’ he said.

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry,’ she panted, struggling out of her coat. ‘I spent all afternoon trying to track down a carriage for one of our clients. It wouldn’t be a problem, except that she wants four horses-all white, naturally-and the carriage has to be purple to fit the colour theme. Oh, and did I mention she wants it for next weekend? I finally found someone who was prepared to paint the carriage, but by the time we’d negotiated how much it would all cost it was nearly six…’

Still talking, she managed to get rid of her coat and checked it into the cloakroom, which gave Jake a chance to get his breathing back under control. It had got ridiculously muddled up at the sight of Cassie spilling through the doors, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright and brown, and the wild curls even more tousled than usual. She was like a crisp autumn breeze, swirling into the stultifyingly grand lobby, freshening the air and sharpening his senses. For a moment there Jake had forgotten whether he was supposed to be breathing in or breathing out.

How had he come up with a crazy idea like pretending to be engaged to her? Jake had spent the day wondering if Giovanni’s wine had gone to his head. It wasn’t the plan that bothered him, it was Cassie. It was that aura of turbulence that always seemed to be whirling around her, that sense that everything might tip into chaos at any moment. Jake, whose life now was built on rigorous order and control, found it deeply unsettling.

If only she could be more like Natasha, who was always calm, always neat, always predictable.

Except when she was running off with Rupert, of course.

The memory of Rupert was enough to make Jake’s jaw tighten with resolve. He might not like muddle and chaos, but he disliked Rupert more. He mustn’t lose his nerve about the plan now, he told himself. It made perfect sense. Pretending to be engaged to Cassie would deprive Rupert of his triumph and achieve his most pressing objective, which was to get the Hall up and running. If a little pretence was required for the purposes of promotion, well, Jake could handle that.

It wasn’t as if anyone in London would ever know anything about it, either, he reassured himself. No; everything would be fine.

It had been fine until that damned kiss.

Natasha’s defection had been a blow to his pride, true, but he’d had a plan. Life had been back under control. And then Cassie had leant forward in the candlelight, that dimple deepening enticingly as she smiled. Darling, she had called him, and then she had kissed him.

The moment her lips had touched his, control had gone out the window. Jake had forgotten everything but warmth, softness and searing, seductive sweetness. He’d forgotten Rupert, forgotten Natasha, forgotten the plan.

It had taken him all day to remember what was important and get himself back under control, and all Cassie had had to do was appear and he’d lost it all over again.

He was being ridiculous, Jake told himself savagely. It was just Cassie. He looked at her as she tucked the cloakroom ticket away in her bag. She was wearing loose trousers and a fine-knit top with a wide belt. She looked really quite stylish for once, although nothing like as elegant as Natasha would have seemed in exactly the same outfit.

She was just a girl. Pretty, yes-in fact, much prettier than she seemed at first glance-but a bit messy, a bit clumsy, a bit disorganised. Nothing special, in fact. Not the kind of girl you got yourself into a state about, that was for sure.