Under the Boss's Mistletoe (12 page)

‘But you look so confident!’ Cassie said, unable to put a lack of confidence together with her image of Jake, who had always been the coolest guy around. ‘You were always leader of the pack.’

‘In Portrevick, and the pack was a pretty disreputable one,’ said Jake. ‘And I can talk business with anyone. It’s a differ
ent story in a smart social setting, like that reception, where you’re supposed to know exactly how to address Lord This and Lady That, how to hold your knife and fork properly, and chit-chat about nothing I know anything about.

‘You could do it,’ he told Cassie. ‘You chatted away without a problem, but I can’t do that. It makes me feel…inadequate,’ he confessed. ‘It’s one of the reasons I resent Rupert so much, I suppose. He’s colossally arrogant and not particularly bright, but he can sail into a social situation and charm the pants off everyone. Look at what he was like with you,’ said Jake bitterly. ‘All over you like a rash, and never mind that you’re supposed to be my fiancée and I’m standing right there.’

‘I think it’s just an automatic reflex with Rupert,’ said Cassie, hugging this hint of jealousy to her. ‘He flirts with every woman he meets.’

‘Does he give them all his number and tell them to call him?’

‘Probably,’ she said. ‘And most of them no doubt will ring him. But I’m not going to. I’ve thrown his card away.’

Jake felt a tightness in his chest loosen. ‘Good,’ he said, and when he looked sideways at Cassie their eyes snagged as if on barbed wire. Without being aware of it, their steps faltered and they stopped.

Cassie was intensely aware of the dull boom of the waves crashing into the shallows, of the familiar tang of salt on the air, and the screech of a lone gull circling above. The wind blew her hair around her face and she held it back with one hand as she finally managed to tear her eyes from Jake’s.

He looked different down here on the beach, more relaxed, as if the rigid control that gripped him in London had loosened. She was glad that he had told her more about his past. It sounded as if his childhood had been much bleaker than she had realised, and she understood a little better now why he had been so insistent on a formula for relationships. If you had no experience of an open, loving relationship like her parents’,
fixing on a partner who shared your practical approach must seem a much better bet than putting your trust in turbulent emotions that couldn’t be pinned down or analysed.

It was sad, though. In spite of herself, Cassie sighed.

Beside her, Jake was watching the wet-suited figures bobbing out in the swell. Even at this time of year there were surfers here. Portrevick was a popular surfing beach, and lifeguards kept a careful eye from a vehicle parked between the two flags that marked the safe area.

Following his gaze, Cassie saw one of the surfers paddling furiously to pick up a big wave just before it crested. He rose agilely on his board, riding the wave as it powered inland, until the curling foam overtook him and broke over him, sending him tumbling gracefully into the water.

‘Why don’t you surf any more?’ she asked him abruptly.

‘I can’t.’

‘But you were so good at it,’ Cassie protested. ‘You were always in the water. I used to watch you from up there,’ she said, pointing up to the dunes. ‘You were easily the best.’

Jake’s mouth twisted. ‘I loved it,’ he said. ‘It was the only time I felt really free. When things got too bad at home, I’d come down here. When you’re out there, just you and the sea, you feel like you can do anything. There’s nothing like the exhilaration you get from riding a big wave, being part of the sea and its power…’ He trailed off, remembering.

‘Then why not do it again?’

‘Because…’ Jake started and then stopped, wondering how to explain. ‘Because surfing is part of who I was when I was here. I don’t want to be that boy any more. When I left Portrevick, I cut off all associations with what I’d been. I wanted to change.’

‘Is that why you gave up riding a motorbike too?’

He nodded. ‘Maybe it’s not very rational, but there’s part of me that thinks the surfing, the bike, the risks I used to take, all of those were bound up with being reckless, being wild and
out of control. It felt as if the freedom they gave me was the price I had to pay to get out of Portrevick and start again.’

‘But you’ve changed,’ said Cassie. ‘Taking out a surf board or riding a motorbike isn’t going to change you back.’

‘What if it does?’ countered Jake, who had obviously been through this many times before. ‘What if I remember how good it felt out there? I’m afraid that, if I let go even for a moment, I might slide back and lose everything I’ve worked so hard for. I can’t risk that. My whole life has been about leaving Portrevick behind.’

He was never going back, Jake vowed. No matter if here, by the sea, was the only place he ever felt truly at home. He had escaped, and the only way was forward.

‘It seems a shame,’ said Cassie. ‘You can’t wipe out the past. That wild boy is still part of who you are now.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ said Jake.

Who was she to talk, anyway? Cassie asked herself as they turned and walked slowly back along beach. She didn’t want to be the gauche adolescent she had been, either. Perhaps if she could put her past behind her as firmly as Jake had she too could be driven and successful, instead of muddling along, living down her family’s expectations.

Tina and Rob were waiting for them back at the Hall, and Rob took a series of photos. ‘Detailed shots are best,’ Tina said authoritatively. ‘I’ve been looking through a few bridal magazines, and that’s what the readers want to see. A close up of a table decoration, or your shoes or something, so they can think, “ooh, I’d like something like that”.’

‘What about a close up of the engagement ring, in that case?’ Jake suggested.

‘That’s a brilliant idea. Why aren’t you wearing it, Cassie?’

‘It feels all wrong to wear it all the time,’ said Cassie, taking the box out of her bag and slipping the ring onto her finger. ‘It’s not as if it’s a real engagement ring.’ Unaware of
her wistful expression, she turned her hand to make the jewels flash. ‘It’s just a prop.’

‘Some prop,’ said Tina, admiring it. ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous—and perfect for you, Cassie.’

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Cassie’s eyes were still on the ring. ‘Jake chose it.’

Tina’s sharp gaze flicked from her friend’s face to Jake, who was watching Cassie. ‘Did he now?’

Cassie was glad they had had that talk on the beach. Things were much easier between them after that, and they were able to chat quite comfortably when Jake gave her a lift back to London the next day.

She understood a little more why he was so determined to leave his old life behind him, and could admire the way he had transformed himself—but a little part of Cassie was sad too. Their conversation had underlined yet again how very different they were. She wished Jake could let go just a little bit, just enough to let him want someone a little muddled, a little messy.

A little bit like her, in fact.

Oh yes, and how likely is that?
Cassie asked herself. Jake was used to a woman like Natasha, who was beautiful and clever and fit perfectly into his new life. Why on earth would he want to ‘let go’ for
her?
The best she could hope for was to be a friend.

And that was what she would be, Cassie decided. After the photo session, she had persuaded Jake to come to the pub with her, Tina and Rob. He had been reluctant at first, remembering the less-than-warm welcome he had had on previous occasions, but this time it was different. Cassie had made sure that Portrevick knew the truth about Sir Ian’s will, and word had got round about the Allantide Ball too. She was determined to see Jake accepted back in the village, whether he liked it or not.

So the drive back to London was fine. Or, sort of fine. It
was comfortable in one way, and deeply uncomfortable in another. A friend would enjoy Jake’s company, and that was what she did. A friend would ask him about his time in the States and about his job, and chat away about nothing really. A friend would make him laugh.

But a true friend
wouldn’t
spend her whole time having to drag her eyes away from his mouth. She wouldn’t have to clutch her hands together to stop them straying over to his thigh. She wouldn’t drift off into a lovely fantasy, where Jake would pull off the road and rip out her seatbelt in a frenzy, unable to keep his hands off her a moment longer.

‘Quick—where’s the nearest Travelodge?’ he would say—except a motel was a bit tacky, wasn’t it? Cassie rewound the fantasy a short way and tried a new script. ‘Let’s get off the main road and find a charming pub with a Michelin-starred restaurant and a four-poster bed upstairs,’ she tried instead.

Yes, that was more like it, she decided, almost purring in anticipation. There would be a roaring fire and they would sit thigh-to-thigh in front of it with a bottle of wine…then Jake would take her hand and lead her up some rickety stairs to their bedroom. He’d close the door and smile as he drew her down onto the bed, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing his way down her throat at the same time.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,’ he would murmur, his lips hot against her skin, his hands sliding wickedly over her. ‘I’m crazy about you.’

‘I love you too,’ she would sigh.

‘Did you mean what you said?’ said Jake, startling her out of her fantasy at just the wrong point.

‘What?’ Cassie jerked upright, her blood pounding. Good grief, she hadn’t been dreaming aloud, had she? ‘No! I mean…when? What did I say?’

‘On the beach yesterday. You said you wouldn’t mind coming along to various events as my fiancée again?’

Cassie fanned herself with relief. ‘Oh…no, of course not.’
Willing her booming pulse to subside, she pulled at her collar in an attempt to cool herself. She had got a bit carried away there.
I love you too.
What on earth was that about? She wasn’t in love with Jake. What a ridiculous idea. She just…found him very attractive.

Yes, that was all it was.

On the other hand, friendly was all she was supposed to be, she reminded herself sternly. ‘I’m always up for a party.’

Keep it light, Cassie had told herself. But it didn’t stop her spending hours searching for the definitive little black dress when Jake rang and asked if she could come to a drinks party later that week.

She should have spared herself the effort. Jake hated it. ‘It’s boring,’ he said when Cassie presented herself with a twirl and made the mistake of asking what he thought. ‘Why didn’t you buy a red one? Or a green one? Anything but black!’

Cassie was crestfallen. ‘I thought you’d like it if I wore what everyone else was wearing,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to stand out.’

‘I like you as you are,’ said Jake.

When Cassie thought about it afterwards, she realised that it was actually quite a nice thing for him to say, but the words were delivered in such a grumpy, un-lover-like tone that at the time she was rather miffed. She had thought she looked really smart for once.

She didn’t bother dressing up for the day at the spa. To Jake’s horror,
Wedding Belles
had decided to send a photographer along to take a picture of them enjoying their prize, so Cassie had to hurriedly arrange a day when they could make the most of the voucher. Jake was furious when he heard that he had to take a day off work.

‘It’ll be good for you,’ Cassie told him. ‘You need to relax. I’ll book some treatments.’

‘There had better not be any seaweed involved,’ warned
Jake as they signed in to the spa, which promised them ‘utter serenity’…‘a time out of time’.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Cassie. ‘I knew you didn’t like the idea of seaweed, so you’re going to be smeared in mud from the Dead Sea, and then wrapped in cling film instead.’

‘What?’

She rolled her eyes and laughed at his aghast expression. ‘Oh, don’t panic. You’re just getting a back massage. It’ll help you unwind.’

Jake was deeply uncomfortable about the thought of a massage at all, but in the end it wasn’t too bad. He couldn’t say he found the spa a relaxing experience, though. There was nothing relaxing about spending an entire day with Cassie, dressed only in a swimming costume and a fluffy robe which she cast off frequently as she dragged him between steam rooms, saunas and an admittedly fabulous pool.

How could he relax when Cassie was just
there,
almost naked? Jake couldn’t take his eyes off her body. She wasn’t as slender or as perfectly formed as Natasha, but she had long, strong legs and she was enticingly curved. She looked so
touchable,
thought Jake, his mouth dry.

He had to keep dragging his eyes back to her face as she sat on the edge of the pool, dangling her legs in the water, or stretched out on the pine slats in the sauna, chatting unconcernedly. The photographer took a snap of them in their robes, and Jake had a feeling that he was going to look cross-eyed with the effort of keeping his hands off that lush, glowing body.

Utter serenity? Utter something else entirely, in Jake’s book!

He told himself that it would be a relief when Cassie went back to Portrevick to prepare for the Allantide Ball. But as soon as she had gone he missed her. It was almost as if he was getting used to her colourful, chaotic presence; as if a day without seeing her walk towards him on a pair of ridiculously unsuitable shoes, or hearing her laugh on the end of the phone, was somehow dull and monochrome. Cassie enthused by email from Portrevick:
Wait till you see the great hall! It’s looking fab. As soon as ball is over, will redecorate as if for a Christmas wedding and Rob is all teed up to come and take some photos of us. Will send them to
Wedding Belles
in January, and then it’ll all be over, you’ll be glad to know! Cxxx

Jake spent a long time looking at those three kisses. Kiss, kiss, kiss. What kind of kisses did she mean? Brief, meaningless, peck-on-the-cheek kisses? Or the kind of kisses that made your heart thunder and your head reel? The kind of kisses you couldn’t bear to stop, but were never enough? She had added,