Gentlemen Prefer... Brunettes. Liz Fielding

      Veronica nodded as she fell in beside him at the lifts. ‘Hello, Nick.’ That was about as personal as her conversation got.

      ‘Veronica,’ he returned distractedly, stepping into the lift ahead of her, well aware that she would take instant offence at any suggestion of patronising deference to the weaker sex. Apparently she didn’t subscribe to the concept of a weaker sex and he was pretty sure that she could teach the typing pool a thing or two about PC behaviour.

      ‘What’s up, Nick? You look as if you’re about to report a slump in the sales figures.’

      ‘Do I?’ He didn’t allow his triumph at this small breakthrough to show, merely looked slightly puzzled. Then he said, ‘Oh, no. It’s my sister’s birthday next week. I’ve just bought her a cookery book—’

      ‘I saw Cassandra Cornwell had a signing.’

      ‘Yes, well, that’s the predictable gift. Now I’ve got to think of something special as a surprise.’

      ‘Send her a cheque.’

      ‘A cheque?’ That would certainly fulfil the surprise element. It surprised the hell out of him. ‘Isn’t that a bit... impersonal?’

      ‘But easy. And it saves time, postage and footwear. Believe me, it’s a great deal more enjoyable getting an impersonal cheque than being presented with something you’d be ashamed to put in the garbage.’

      Her bluntness was refreshing, even if her assessment of his taste was less than flattering. But it was the longest conversation they’d had on any subject other than marketing in the three weeks since she’d moved into the office opposite his. Maybe he could string it out a little further, learn a little about her likes and dislikes.

      ‘It’s a tempting idea, but I don’t think it would go down too well with Helen. Kid sisters like to be spoiled a little, you know.’

      ‘Do they?’ She gave him a long, assessing glance from a pair of silvery blue eyes. ‘She can’t be that much of a kid.’

      He shrugged. This was one hard female. Here he was, a warm, caring brother, worrying about a gift for his sister, and was this woman impressed? Would anything impress her? An uneasy feeling that it might be wiser to ignore the challenge on the men’s room wall abruptly hardened into determination to see just what it would take to soften her heart.

      It wasn’t as if it would be a hardship, exactly. He considered the perfection of seemingly endless legs, the slender figure expensively clad in cool ice-blue linen that so exactly matched her character, the smooth platinum curve of hair. The contrast with the vivid, inviting warmth of Cassie Cornwell couldn’t have been more marked.

      ‘I suppose not,’ he conceded quickly, before his thoughts ran away with him. Dimpled little pouter pigeons were not his style. He’d always liked his women to have the lines of a well-bred greyhound. ‘Helen’s got four of her own.’

      ‘Four? Four children?’

      If he’d suggested sex in the lift she couldn’t have been more shocked. ‘She started young,’ he explained. ‘And last time she had twins.’

      ‘In that case forget the cheque, just take her children off her hands for the weekend and give the poor woman a break.’

      He laughed out loud. ‘Four girls? You’ve got to be joking.’

      ‘Have I?’ Veronica’s voice maintained its neutral tone, giving nothing away. ‘I’d have thought four girls would have been right up your street.’

      Nick opened his mouth to protest at this calumny, but decided that might not be a wise move. The grapevine had obviously been busily filling her in on the details of his bachelor existence. So he grinned instead. ‘Not four girls between the ages of five and eight, Veronica.’ And he found his thoughts drifting to Cassandra Cornwell. She was taking her nephews camping. He was assailed with a sudden vision of her waking up early, stretching and then curling back into the warmth of her sleeping bag like a dormouse...

      ‘Well, I’m sure a man of your experience will think of some treat to take the poor woman’s mind off runny noses for a few minutes, Nick,’ Veronica said, breaking into his thoughts. ‘Some way to light up her day.’

      He dragged himself back from the enticing thought of curling up with Cassie and gave his full attention to Veronica. Poor woman? It was the second time in as many minutes that she’d referred to his sister in that condescending manner. He’d like to see her try it to Helen’s face; she’d soon be put in her place.

      Just because his sister thought her family was more important than running a company, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do both if she’d a mind to. Probably with one hand tied behind her back. Even surrounded by boxes of nappies and baby goo she had found time to train for and compete in the London Marathon. And turn in one of the fastest amateur times. Her role as wife and mother might be her first priority but she was still a Jefferson. However, Helen didn’t need him or anyone else to stand up for her, so he let it go.

      ‘I’m sure you’re right, Veronica,’ he said as the lift door opened. ‘I’ll think of something. Every woman has a weak spot.’ And he’d find hers, he promised himself, and sooner rather than later.

      As for Helen, Veronica might have inadvertently offered a solution. Not a cheque—because despite all the advantages Veronica had outlined he knew better than to send his sister money. Helen would return it with a reminder that money was something you gave to charity; sisters deserved a little more time and thought. But then sisters were notoriously blind to their brothers’ good qualities, presumably because they’d lived with them through childhood and adolescence and had been the victim of all their worst ones.

      That couldn’t be Veronica Grant’s problem, though. Not that he was entirely convinced by her arm’s length tactics. She might be a very clever woman but he wasn’t exactly stupid himself. He was number two at Jefferson Sports and when his uncle retired in a year or two he’d be number one. The Jefferson name and the money which went with it were a plum prize and he was well aware that he was a target for every matchmaking mama in Melchester.

      If that was Veronica’s game she was doomed to disappointment. A little kiss chase was one thing but he had no intention of getting involved in anything heavier. He was simply out to prove a point, not change his life. He liked his life just the way it was.

      But he hated to walk away from a challenge. It ran in the blood. His grandfather had been a track hero, his father had played rugby for his country and his uncle had been about to follow him when he was sidelined by injury. The three of them had put Jefferson Sports on the map and expected their offspring to follow in their mighty footsteps.

      While his cousins had taken to the professional sports field with enthusiasm, adding glory to the family name, Nick had chosen instead to flex his muscles in the business world. After all, someone had to stay home and mind the store. He’d done his bit for the family honour with a rowing blue for his university, but he’d long outgrown such gladiatorial contests. Not that he was a slouch on the tennis court, or the piste, but sport, in his book, was for fun. He particularly enjoyed the indoor kind.

      He was smiling as he dropped the bookstore carrier bag on his desk and reached for the telephone to call his brother-in-law. But as he waited for a connection his gaze fell on the bright bag and his smile turned into a frown.

      Cassandra Cornwell was not his kind of woman. Short, with an armful of curves and an uncontrollable mop of dark hair, she was the very antithesis of the kind of woman he liked to be seen with. He couldn’t think why he had asked her to lunch. Or why he had been so irked when she had turned him down. Except that she reminded him of a little brown teddy bear he’d had as a child. Soft and warm...and cuddly. He suddenly realised that someone was speaking into his ear.

      ‘Oh, Graham, it’s Nick. I’ve just had a bright idea for Helen’s birthday. How would you two like to spend it in Paris? On me?’

      ‘Tell me about your nephews, Cassie,’ Beth invited