Brand Of Possession. Кэрол Мортимер

sudden compliments a little too sudden. ‘It has been mentioned,’ she was deliberately blasé about it.

      ‘By Matthew Day?’ he probed harshly.

      ‘How did you——’

      ‘I'm paid to know things,’ he interrupted. ‘Have you been dating him long?’

      ‘Didn't your informant tell you that?’ she enquired sweetly.

      ‘I didn't ask them, I'm asking you.’

      ‘I've known Matthew for three years.’

      ‘That doesn't exactly answer my question,’ he said dryly.

      ‘No,’ she agreed.

      ‘By that I take it you aren't going to answer it.’

      ‘You take it right,’ she imitated his American drawl. ‘I don't consider it any of your business.’

      ‘Not even if I wanted to date you myself?’

      ‘And do you?’ she challenged.

      He let his gaze wander slowly over her body. ‘Oh yes, I think so.’

      Stacy blushed scarlet. She had told Juliet that she thought he could have charm, but nothing had prepared her for this blatant approach. ‘I'm very flattered, Jake, but I——’

      ‘Don't refuse me yet,’ he cut in. ‘Leave it until the end of the evening and see how you feel about me then.’

      ‘That almost sounds like a warning of intent.’

      He raised one dark eyebrow. ‘Only almost?’

      She moved nervously, feeling way out of her depth with this man. ‘I—er—I think I should go and find Matthew.’

      He took the empty glass out of her hand, those long tapered fingers brushing gently against her skin. ‘No need, I'll go and get you another drink.’

      ‘That wasn't the reason I wanted him.’

      ‘Wait there,’ Jake ordered. ‘I won't be long.’

      Stacy watched him stride away, aware of a feeling of pride as the female heads turned to watch his progress over to the bar. He was definitely a handsome specimen, and for some unexplainable reason he seemed to have chosen to spend the rest of the evening with her. She should feel flattered, but fear was one of her predominant emotions, fear of the mesmerising effect he had on her.

      She looked up warily as Martin Payne came towards her, the jovial smile on his face nothing like his anger with her earlier today. ‘Ah, Miss Adams,’ he beamed, ‘I trust Jake has told you that our little misunderstanding is to be forgotten?’

      ‘He did mention it.’

      ‘Such a silly misunderstanding,’ he continued. ‘You only had to tell me that you'd already agreed to come to the party with Jake and all of that unpleasantness could have been avoided.’

      So that was how he had done it! ‘I don't think——’

      ‘I felt slightly ridiculous when he explained the circumstances behind your refusal.’ He smiled as he realised he was allowing anger to enter his voice. ‘I hope you'll be able to forget any unpleasantness that may have occurred between us. It was all a complete mistake.’

      ‘Yes,’ she agreed uncertainly, not at all sure of his sudden changes of mood. And she was a little curious as to why Jake had told this man she was spending the evening with him, although she realised this was probably what had saved her job; Martin Payne wouldn't want to antagonise anyone close to Jake Weston.

      ‘Of course I don't know how you managed it,’ he added curtly, obviously not completely cowed.

      Stacy stiffened. ‘Don't you?’ she queried softly, looking past him to the tall imposing figure of Jake as he made his way back to her side, a drink in each hand.

      Martin Payne flushed as he followed her line of vision. ‘Mm—well, perhaps I do,’ he muttered. ‘But for your sake I hope you never anger him as you did me this afternoon. He would make a much more formidable adversary that I ever would.’

      She already knew that! She smiled at the director. ‘I don't envisage anything like that happening.’

      ‘I wouldn't count on it. People like Jake can be very temperamental.’

      Jake arrived at her side, smiling down at her as he handed her her drink, a completely charming smile directed at her, only at her. And it had the desired effect; she felt as if her legs were turning to jelly and there was a strange butterfly sensation in the pit of her stomach.

      He turned to look at the director, his smile fading. ‘Martin,’ he nodded curtly.

      ‘I—er—I just came over to tell Miss Adams that it will no longer be necessary for her to leave tomorrow.’ Martin Payne was obviously just as overwhelmed by this man as she was. ‘And to apologise for the misunderstanding.’

      Jake nodded. ‘I had already told her, but I'm sure she appreciated your telling her personally.’ Stacy felt herself stiffen as he put an arm possessively about her waist. ‘Stacy was rather upset about it all,’ he added.

      ‘I'm sure she was,’ the older man looked uncomfortable. ‘Would you like me to introduce you to some of the other people here now?’

      ‘I don't think so,’ Jake refused, his hand on her waist seeming to burn where it touched. ‘Stacy and I can manage just fine on our own.’

      ‘But, Jake, this is all——’

      ‘I said we can manage,’ Jake cut in. ‘Stacy can introduce me to anyone I care to meet, can't you, honey?’

      ‘Er—yes, I suppose so.’

      The director shrugged. ‘Okay then,’ he accepted defeat in the face of such obstinacy. ‘But I think Paul would like to meet you again.’

      ‘I'm sure he would,’ Jake snapped, his mouth a thin straight line. ‘But that's the one person I don't think Stacy would like to introduce me to. And I certainly don't appreciate men of his type trying to force young girls into going out with him.’

      ‘I'll—er—I'll see you later, then.’

      Jake was looking down at Stacy. ‘Perhaps, Martin. Perhaps.’

      It was a disgruntled Martin Payne who finally left them, and Stacy wondered at Jake for daring to talk to him in that way. After all, he was one of the leading directors in the world, and Jake had more or less dismissed him.

      She looked up at Jake, moving out of the hold he had about her waist. ‘That isn't going to make you very popular,’ she warned.

      He looked unperturbed. ‘I'm not out to win any popularity contests.’

      ‘Perhaps that's as well,’ she sipped her drink. ‘Mm, my favourite drink, Martini and lemonade. Did your informant tell you that too?’

      He grinned at her, his eyes deeply blue. ‘I don't have an informant. I guessed about your drink, and as for the other—well, I just asked Payne why he'd dismissed you.’

      She looked surprised. ‘And he told you about Paul Forbes?’

      ‘Not exactly.’

      ‘But you worked it out,’ she said knowingly.

      ‘Knowing Paul as I do, yes.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘You know him?’ she asked almost accusingly.

      ‘Slightly.’

      Her mouth compressed. ‘I see.’

      ‘I don't think you do. Let's sit down and we'll talk about it.’ Without waiting for her answer he led her over to a secluded table, well away from everyone else and in the dimmer lighting. He pulled out a chair for her to sit down and then sat at her side, his arm resting along