The Passion Price (6 page)

Angelina sighed and made her way down the rest of the path and through the covered archway that provided protection for arriving guests. A green Jaguar was parked there, with a middle-aged couple inside booking in. Angelina slipped through a side-gate just past Reception that led into a private court
yard attached to the manager's quarters, a spacious two-bedroomed unit with an
en suite
to the main.

She and Alex had moved in there two years ago after Angelina had started doing night shifts at the reception desk. The excuse she'd used for the move was that the old farmhouse where they'd been living, and where she'd been born and brought up, was a couple of hundred metres away, far too long a walk for her at night. Or so she had told her father. Papa had not been happy with their move at first, but he'd got used to it. Besides, when Alex came home on holiday, he'd often stayed with his grandfather in his old room.

Angelina rarely ventured back there, the house not having all that many good memories for her. She'd been a lonely child living there, and an even lonelier single mother. She much preferred her memoryless apartment with its fresh cream walls, cream floor coverings and all mod cons. She liked the modern furniture too, having never been fond of the heavy and ornate furniture her father had preferred. Now that her father was gone, Arnold was living in the old farmhouse, free accommodation being part of his contract as Ambrosia's wine-maker.

Of course, Alex hadn't liked that at all, having someone else living in his grandfather's house. But that was just too bad.

Another sigh escaped Angelina's lips as she let herself in the front door. What a day it had been so far. And it wasn't over yet.

She moved straight across the cream carpet to the
side-table where she kept the phone, sitting down on the green and cream checked sofa and calling Alex on his cellphone. He should have finished playing cricket by now.

‘Yes, Mum,' he answered after the second ring.

‘You lost,' she said, knowing that tone of voice.

‘I don't want to talk about it,' he grumped.

‘Never mind. You'll wallop them at the swimming carnival.'

‘We'd better. They'll be insufferable if they win that, too.'

Alex had a killer competitive instinct. He was the one who would be insufferable.

‘So how's things up there?' he asked.

‘Everything's fine. Arnold sold his place today.'
And your father showed up out of the blue.

Alex groaned. ‘Does that mean we're stuck with him forever?'

‘Alex, I'm not sure what your problem is with Arnold. He's a really nice man. You could learn a lot from him. Your grandfather said he was brilliant with whites. You know Papa was not at his best with whites. He was more of a red man. But no, we're not stuck with him forever. He said he's going to buy a little place over in Port Stephens with what he gets for his place, with enough left over for his retirement. He's well aware how keen you are to take over and is more than willing to stand aside when you feel ready to take on the job of wine-maker.'

‘Good. Because I intend to do just that as soon as I finish my higher-school certificate.'

A prickle ran down Angelina's spine. He sounded like Jake had today. So strong and so determined.

‘I won't stand in your way, Alex,' she said. ‘This place is your inheritance, and the job of wine-maker is your right.'

‘And I'm going to find my father, too. Not in November. I can't wait that long. I'm going to start next holidays. At Easter.'

Angelina grimaced. Easter! That was only a few weeks away. Still, maybe it was for the best. She couldn't stand the tension of such a long wait herself.

‘All right, Alex. You'll get no further argument from me on that score. Come Easter, we'll go find your father.'

‘Honest?' Alex sounded amazed. ‘You're not going to make a fuss?'

‘No.'

‘Cool. You're the best, Mum.'

‘Mmm.'

‘Got to go. The dinner bell's gone. Love ya.'

‘Love you, too,' she replied, but he'd already hung up.

Tears filled her eyes as she hung up too.

‘Lord knows what you're crying over, Angelina,' she muttered. ‘Things could be worse, as Arnold said.'

But she wasn't entirely convinced.

J
AKE
paced back and forth across his living room, unable to eat, unable to sit and watch television or work or do any of the other activities that usually filled his alone-time.

The sleek, round, silver-framed clock on the wall pronounced that it was getting on for half-past eight. He'd dropped Dorothy off at her place in Rose Bay at seven-thirty, an hour earlier. The drive back from the Hunter Valley had taken a lot longer than the drive up. They'd been caught up in the Saturday-night traffic coming into the city, slowing to a crawl near the Harbour Bridge.

‘I won't miss this when I move to the country,' Dorothy had declared impatiently, which had rather amused Jake at the time. She should see how bad the traffic was in peak hours on a weekday. If there was an accident on the bridge, or in the tunnel, the lines of traffic didn't crawl. They just stopped.

But that was city living for you.

Jake had declined Dorothy's invitation to come in for a bite to eat, and now here he was, unfed and unable to relax, becoming increasingly agitated and angry. With himself.

He'd handled Angelina all wrong today. He'd come on to her way too strong, and way too fast.
That might work with city babes in wine bars on a Friday night, but not girls like Angelina. Even when she was fifteen, she hadn't been easy. She'd made him wait, forcing him to make endless small talk that summer before finally agreeing to meet him alone.

He could see now that her still being attracted to him in a physical sense wasn't enough for her to drop her current boyfriend and go out with him. She claimed she was a modern woman who'd been around, but he suspected—like Dorothy—that Angelina was not as sophisticated as she thought she was. She had an old-fashioned core.

She was going to say no when he finally rang her. Nothing was surer in his mind. And the prospect was killing him.

He had to change his tactics. Hell, he was a smart guy, wasn't he? A lawyer. Changing tactics midstream came naturally to him.

Go back to square one, Jake. Chat her up some more. Show her your warm and sensitive side. You have to have one. Edward said you did. Then you might stand a chance of winning, if not her heart, then her body.

And don't wait till tomorrow night to call. Do it now. Right now, buddy, whilst she can still remember how it felt today when you touched her hand, and looked deep into her eyes and talked about spending a whole weekend together.

If it was even remotely what you felt—what you are
still
feeling—then she has to be tempted.

Jake's hand was unsteady as he took out his wallet
and extracted the card where she'd written down her telephone numbers. He had it bad all right. It had been a long time since he'd felt this desperate over a woman. Damn it all, he'd
never
felt this desperate before!

Except perhaps that summer sixteen years ago. He'd been desperate for Angelina back then too. No wonder he'd been hopeless by the time he'd actually done it with her.

Jake craved the opportunity to show her he wasn't a hopeless lover now.

But first, he had to get her to say yes to seeing him again. Even lunch would do. She'd said she might go to lunch with him. It wasn't quite what he had in mind but it was a start.

He dragged in several deep breaths as he walked over to sweep up the receiver of his phone. His hand was only marginally steadier as he punched in her number but he consoled himself with the fact she could not see it shake.

As long as he sounded calm. And sincere. That was all that mattered.

 

Angelina was sitting on the sofa and painting her toenails, her right foot propped up on the glass coffee-table, when the phone rang. The brush immediately zigzagged across her second toe onto her big toe, leaving a long streak of plum nail-polish on her skin.

The swear-word she uttered was not one she would
have used if Alex had been home. Or if her father had been alive.

By the time she replaced the brush in the bottle, poured some remover on a cotton-wool ball and wiped off the wayward polish, then leant over to snatch up the phone from the nearby side-table, it had been ringing for quite a while.

‘Yes?' she answered sharply. She hoped it wasn't Wilomena with more advice. She was all adviced out. Besides, she'd already made up her mind what she was going to say to Jake when he finally rang.

‘Angelina? It's Jake. Have I rung at an awkward moment?'

Jake. It was Jake!

‘You weren't supposed to ring till later in the week,' she snapped, hating it that just the sound of his voice could make her stomach go all squishy.

‘I couldn't wait till then to apologise,' he said. ‘I wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight.'

‘Apologise for what?' Her voice was still sharp.

His, however, was soft and seductive.

‘I was out of line today.'

‘Were you really?' Now her tone was dry, and sarcastic.

No way was she going to be all sweetness and light. She was still seriously annoyed with him for turning up in her life at this particular point in time and making her make difficult decisions.

‘I was pushy and presumptuous, as you said. My only excuse is that I didn't want to let you get away from me a second time. I really liked you sixteen
years ago, Angelina, but I like the woman you've become even better.'

She laughed. ‘Wow, you've really become the master of the polished line, haven't you? But you can save the flattery for another occasion, Jake. I've already decided to have lunch with you on Saturday.'

The dead silence on the other end of the line gave Angelina some satisfaction that she'd been able to knock him speechless. Unfortunately, now that she'd voiced her decision out loud to him, the reality of it shook her right down to her half-painted toes.

But the die had been rolled. No going back.

‘Great!' he said, sounding much too happy for her liking. ‘I'm already looking forward to it. But does—er—Alex know?'

‘I spoke to him earlier this evening. We talked about you.'

‘What did you say? I'll bet you didn't tell him how we first met.'

‘Alex already knows all about you, Jake. There are no secrets between us.'

‘And he
agreed
to your going to lunch with me?'

‘Why should he object to a platonic lunch between old friends?'

‘Old
flames
, Angelina. Not old friends.'

‘Whatever. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then, Jake.'

‘I'll bet you didn't tell him everything I said to you today.'

What could she say to that?

‘You didn't, did you?' Jake continued when she
remained silent. ‘No man—not even your pathetic Alex—would willingly let his girlfriend go to lunch with another man who'd declared his wish to make her
his
woman.'

Angelina could not believe the passion in Jake's words. And the power. How easy it would be to forget all common sense and tell him that she had changed her mind, that she would not only go to lunch with him on Saturday, but she would also stay at his place on the Saturday night.

Dear heaven, she
was
going to make a fool of herself with him again. Or she might, if she went to lunch with him on Saturday as things stood. If he could do this to her over the phone, what could he do to her when she was alone with him in the big bad city?

She had to tell him about Alex. Right here and now. It was the only way she could protect herself against her susceptibility to this man.

‘Jake, there's something I have to tell you,' she began, then stopped as she struggled for the right words. He was going to be shocked out of his mind. And furious with her for playing word games with him. How she could possibly explain why she'd done such a thing? She was going to look a fool, no matter what she said, or did.

‘Alex doesn't know you're going to lunch with me at all, does he?' Jake jumped in.

‘Er—no. He doesn't.'

‘You realise what that means, Angelina. You're
finished with him, whether you admit it or not. You're not the sort of girl to two-time a guy.'

‘I don't consider lunch a two-timing act,' she argued, panicking at the way this conversation was now going. Instead of finding sanctuary in the truth, she was getting in deeper. And deeper.

‘It is when you know that the guy you're having lunch with wants more than to share a meal with you,' Jake pointed out ruefully.

‘But what
you
want is not necessarily what
I
want,' she countered, stung by his presumption.

‘That's not the impression you gave me today. We shared something special once, Angelina. It's still there. The sparks. The chemistry.'

‘Men like you share a chemistry with lots of women, Jake. It's nothing special. Which reminds me, is there some current girlfriend who should know that you've asked another woman out to lunch?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘I'm between girlfriends at the moment.'

She laughed. ‘Am I supposed to believe that?'

‘You sure are. I'm a lot of things but I'm no liar.'

‘Such as what? What are you, Jake Winters, that I should worry about before daring to go to lunch with you?'

‘You don't honestly expect me to put myself down, do you? I'm no saint but I'm not one of the bad guys, either. I don't lie and I don't cheat. There is no other woman in my life. But I
am
a confirmed bachelor. And I aim to stay that way. Which should
please you, since you're not into wedding bells and baby bootees. Or did I get that wrong?'

‘No. No, you didn't get that wrong.'

If I can't marry you, then I don't want to marry anyone.

The thought burst into her mind. Shocking her.
Shattering
her. This couldn't be. This wasn't fair. Not only that, but it was also crazy. He'd only been in her life a few short hours this time.

She couldn't be in love with him again. Not really. She was being confused and corrupted by the romance of the situation. And by desire. His, as well as her own. She wasn't sure which was the more powerful. Being wanted the way Jake said he wanted her. Or her wanting him.

Angelina still could not believe the feelings which had rampaged through her when he'd simply touched her hand.

Wilomena was probably right. She was a one-man woman.

And Jake was the man. Impossible to resist him. She could go to lunch with him next Saturday, pretending that it was a reconnaissance mission to find out what kind of man he was. But that was all it would be. A pretence.

‘Tell me about your job,' she said, valiantly resolving to put their conversation back on to a more platonic, getting-to-know-you basis. ‘What kind of lawyer are you?'

‘A darned good one.'

‘No, I mean what kind of people do you represent?'

‘People who need a good lawyer to go in to bat for them. People who've been put down and put upon, usually in the corporate world. Employees who've been unfairly dismissed, or sexually harassed, or made to endure untenable work conditions. I have this woman client at the moment who's in the process of suing her boss. She worked as his assistant in an un-air-conditioned office with him for years whilst he chain-smoked. She repeatedly asked him to put her in a separate office but he wouldn't. Yet he was filthy rich. She now has terminal lung cancer and she's only forty-two. We're suing for millions. And we'll win, too.'

‘But she won't,' Angelina said. ‘She'll die.'

‘Yes, she'll die. But her teenage children won't. She told me she'd die happier if she gets enough money to provide for them till they can provide for themselves. Her husband's an invalid as well. That's why she had to work and why she stayed working for that bastard under such rotten conditions. Because the job was within walking distance of her house, and she didn't have a car. She couldn't afford one.'

‘That's so sad. I hate hearing stories like that. Don't tell me any more, Jake.'

‘All right,' he said gently. ‘You always did have a soft heart, Angelina. I remember the day we found that bird with the broken wing caught in the vines. You cried till your dad promised to take it to a vet.'

He was getting to her again. ‘I only have a soft
heart for poor birds with broken wings,' she countered crisply. ‘And poor people dying through no fault of their own. Not smooth-talking lawyers who go round trying to seduce old flames just for the heck of it.'

‘Is that what you think I'm doing?'

‘Come, now, Jake, you ran into me today by sheer accident. You haven't given me a second thought all these years.' Unlike herself. Even if she'd wanted to forget Jake, how could she when his eyes had been staring back at her on a daily basis for years? ‘Your dear old friend Dorothy is buying a place up here,' she swept on. ‘You spotted me again today, liked what you saw, and thought I'd be a convenient lay during your weekends up here.'

‘That's a pretty harsh judgement.'

‘I think it's a pretty honest one. Please don't try to con me, Jake. I won't like that. Be straight with me.'

‘OK, you're right and you're wrong. I admit I haven't actively thought about you for years. But that doesn't mean I'd forgotten you. When I realised where I was going for lunch today, everything came flooding back. The way you made me feel that summer. The things that happened. I really wanted to see you again. I told myself it was just curiosity, or the wish to say sorry for being just a chump back then. But when I actually saw you, Angelina…when I saw you I—'

‘Please don't say the world stopped,' she cut in drily.

He laughed. ‘I won't. It actually sped up. At least, my pulse-rate did. Do you know how beautiful you are?' he said, his voice dropping low again. ‘How sexy?'