Past Passion. PENNY JORDAN
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first left the salon.
She eyed it uncertainly, wondering if perhaps the perm hadn’t been just a little bit too much of a change, and then sternly forced herself to remember Jonathan’s cruel condemnation of her. No one looking at her now would consider her sexless, would they? She looked...and looked... A little uncomfortably, she decided she wasn’t quite sure what she looked like, other than it wasn’t really herself...
It took her a good hour and several unsuccessful attempts before she managed to reproduce something approaching the sales girl’s artistically applied make-up. The blue kohl pencil certainly did make her eyes appear an extraordinary colour, but she still wasn’t sure that quite so much lipstick—
Sternly reminding herself of what this was all about, she ignored her own feelings of discomfort and struggled into her new dress.
It was odd how something so insubstantial could make her slender body appear positively voluptuous, even if she wasn’t quite sure that purple really was her colour.
There, she was ready.
Even the driver of the taxi she had booked to take her to the party did a double-take when she opened the door. She lifted her head a little higher and gave him what she hoped was a cool stare.
Just wait until Jonathon saw her. So he thought she was dull, did he? Dull and boring and sexless... Well, tonight she was going to make him regret every single one of those unkind criticisms.
It was only when she was paying off the taxi driver outside the hotel and seeing her fellow employees arrive in groups, even worse, couples, that she realised that the very best way to show Jonathon just how wrong he was about her would be for her to turn up at the party with another man... But the problem was that she didn’t know any other men—not here in the city—and certainly none of her male friends at home could hold a candle physically to Jonathon.
He was so very good-looking, so very sophisticated, so very charming... A charm that meant nothing—nothing at all, she reminded herself bitterly, ignoring the startled look of recognition from one of the other girls from the typing pool who was approaching the main doors to the hotel just as she stepped towards them.
‘Nicola? It is you, isn’t it? Heavens! Is that...is that a wig?’ she asked Nicola uncertainly.
‘No, it’s a perm,’ Nicola told her shortly.
She had never particularly liked Lisa. She was another blonde like Susan Hodges. Nicola’s chin tilted defiantly as she saw the way the other girl was studying her appearance. Her male companion was staring at her as well, Nicola recognised, and he was staring at her in a manner with which she was not familiar. It made her feel both uncomfortable and uneasy, but she ignored these feelings, concentrating instead on the cruelty of the words she had overheard earlier in the day.
The foyer of the hotel was busy with people coming and going. A board just to one side of the reception desk had written up on it which functions were taking place in which suites, and it was easy for Nicola to find her way to the suite where their own party was taking place.
In point of fact she was familiar with the layout of the hotel, having eaten there and attended several functions with her parents over the years.
The gloomy dimness of the room made her blink a little when she first entered it. Individual tables had been set up around the small dance-floor, and she quickly headed for one occupied by some of the other girls from the typing pool.
All of them commented on the change in her appearance, but only one of them was unkind enough to remark that she was surprised to see her turning up on her own.
‘I thought you’d be coming with Jonathon,’ she added pointedly.
Now Nicola was glad of the gloom. She turned her head away and shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalant uninterest.
But uninterest was the last thing she actually felt when Jonathon walked in with Susie on his arm.
The two of them seemed to take a long time to walk across the room. Jonathon never even looked in her direction, Nicola noticed dispiritedly, but Susie certainly did, her eyes widening a little as she took in Nicola’s altered appearance.
Let her stare, Nicola thought defiantly, giving her head a bitter little toss. Let them both stare...
She was determined that, before tonight was over, she was going to make Jonathon eat his words, although it was becoming increasingly obvious to her that if she was actually to achieve this objective what she really needed was to have some other man paying attention to her, making it plain that he did not consider her either dull or sexless... And not just any man... It would have to be a very special kind of man, the kind of man who—
Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the man who had just walked into the room.
Unlike the other male guests, who were all wearing formal suits, this man was dressed casually, his soft blue shirt open at the throat, his jeans clinging to his thighs.
‘Wow! Just look at that!’ one of the other girls at the table giggled appreciatively. ‘I wonder where he’s come from...’
‘Who knows? But one thing’s for sure... He won’t be staying long—not dressed like that.’
‘Wanna bet?’ another of the girls commented drily. ‘He just happens to be one of our most important clients. I knew he’d been invited, but I don’t think anyone actually thought he’d come...’
Behind her the girls were giggling and chattering excitedly about the newcomer’s good looks, but Nicola wasn’t paying very much attention.
A waiter came round with a tray of champagne cocktails. Although normally she didn’t drink, Nicola took one, and gulped thirstily at it.
The champagne tickled the back of her throat and made her cough a little, but the delicious warm feeling that spread through her stomach after she had emptied her glass was undeniably pleasant.
She felt better, too...stronger, more confident, more determined than ever to show Jonathon just how wrong he was about her.
That she also felt decidedly wobbly when she stood up to accept a second cocktail from another waiter was something she decided to ignore.
It was just nerves, she told herself firmly. Just nerves... After all, no one, not even someone who never drank, could get drunk on two champagne cocktails—could they?
One of the girls got up and announced that she was going to the bar. She asked Nicola what she wanted to drink and, unsure of what to ask for, Nicola quickly repeated the order given by the girl sitting next to her, although not entirely sure what a ‘VAT’ might be.
When the drinks arrived, the odd, oily after-taste of hers was a little strange, but nevertheless good manners made her empty her glass.
Jonathon and Susie weren’t sitting with his parents, she noticed woozily as she searched the room for them. Jonathon was in fact talking to the man in jeans while Susie simpered up to him, batting her eyelashes and smiling. He was, Nicola recognised dreamily, far, far better looking than Jonathon. He was also far, far more masculine than Jonathon, and a tiny, delicious tremor of sensation suddenly and very shockingly ran through her at the thought of being held against that hard, male chest, of being touched by those very male hands.
Without even thinking about what she was doing, she got to her feet, ignoring the muzzy, dizzying sensation in her head and the odd weakness in her legs.
She walked unsteadily across the floor, and as she approached their table she saw the way Susie clutched possessively at Jonathon’s arm, her eyes widening, her scarlet nails digging into his jacket.
Jonathon had seen her now. She saw the shock register in his eyes as he looked at her, and immediately a pleasurable rush of warmth and triumph ran through her stomach. She gave him a pouting smile...the kind of smile she had seen Susie use so often, and then she tossed her head, so that her wild mane of curls bounced everywhere. The motion of tossing her head had, she realised