Engaged To Jarrod Stone. Кэрол Мортимер
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‘Everything,’ she said with feeling.
‘Everything?’ Jean’s frown cleared, to be replaced with a look of amazement. ‘But surely you don’t mean—–’
‘Yes. I’m engaged to Jarrod Stone.’
‘Goodness! But you—you can’t be! I didn’t even realise you were seeing him.’ Jean’s face showed her disbelief.
‘It has been rather sudden. I—–’
‘Excuse me,’ interrupted a husky female voice. ‘I’m looking for Mr Stone’s office.’
Brooke turned to look at the woman, her nostrils twitching sensitively with the deep heavy perfume she wore. This woman was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. She was very tall, her blonde hair shoulder-length and waving provocatively about her face, her eyes a glowing green, her tiny nose uptilted, her pouting mouth painted an inviting scarlet. To Brooke she looked exquisite and she wondered who she could be. Obviously one of Jarrod Stone’s women, of that she felt sure. She looked the type he would go for, about thirtyish and very sophisticated.
‘Mr Stone’s office is on the tenth floor,’ she answered politely. ‘If you would like to take the private lift up I’ll telephone them of your arrival.’
The woman nodded coolly. ‘Thank you, Miss—Brooke Faulkner!’ Her green eyes narrowed as they looked at the gold lettering on the nameplate. ‘You’re Brooke Faulkner?’
Brooke frowned. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, well, well.’ The woman seemed to have regained her composure. ‘Clever old Jarrod,’ she murmured to herself.
‘I beg your pardon?’
The woman gave her a dazzling smile. ‘It isn’t important. So nice to have met you, Brooke, you have helped to explain a lot.’
‘But I didn’t do anything.’ She needn’t have bothered to speak; the woman had already walked away from the desk to enter the lift. How rude of her! ‘Who was that?’ she asked Jean.
Her friend’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘I didn’t get the chance to ask her,’ she said ruefully.
‘You shouldn’t have needed to. That was Selina Howard.’
Brooke gasped, looking after the woman. ‘The wife of the multi-millionaire?’
Jean nodded. ‘The same.’
‘Oh.’ What on earth could a woman like her want with Jarrod Stone? There seemed only one explanation, and yet that didn’t seem at all likely. Charles Howard was even better known than Jarrod Stone, and one of the richest men in the world. He was also a very good-looking man, although being in his late fifties he was much older than his thirty-year-old wife.
Brooke looked up sharply as the woman came back down again half an hour later. She must have been Jarrod Stone’s important appointment, a very beautiful appointment, and it certainly wasn’t a business appointment, of that she was sure. Selina Howard gave her a cool smile before leaving the building.
But the time Jarrod Stone came down in the lift at twelve-thirty Brooke had managed to stir herself up into a very nervous state. But perhaps he just intended for them to look as if they were leaving to go to lunch together, perhaps they would part when they got outside. She hoped so.
She grabbed her leather jacket and handbag from the cloakroom before he came over, smiling nervously at the girl who was taking over for her during her lunch break. Jarrod’s eyes narrowed as she reached his side, but he said nothing about her flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes, merely taking hold of her elbow to guide her out of the door opened for them by the doorman.
Once outside the building his hand dropped away and he turned left towards the shopping centre, leaving Brooke to run to keep up with him, his long strides taking him along much faster than her own.
‘Could you slow down a little?’ she asked breathlessly.
Jarrod turned to look at her as if suddenly becoming aware of her, his pace slackening slightly but still much too fast for her.
‘Where are we going?’ She looked up at him.
His mouth turned back in a sneer. ‘I would have thought it was obvious.’
‘But I—I thought we were going to lunch. It’s mainly shops in this part of town.’
He sighed. ‘One shop in particular.’
‘What shop is that?’
‘A jewellers. There’s a very good one not far from here.’
Again Brooke felt panic rising within her. ‘A jewellers? Whatever for?’
‘My dear girl, if we’re going to be engaged you’re going to need a ring. That’s where we’re going now, to buy you an engagement ring.’
BROOKE stopped in her tracks, unconcerned when he turned to scowl his impatience. ‘I don’t want an engagement ring,’ she declared.
Jarrod walked back the short distance between them, grasping her arm roughly and pulling her to one side of the pavement. ‘Don’t shout like that in the street!’ he snapped.
She shook off his hand. ‘What else did you expect me to do? You were miles away from me.’
‘Only because you deliberately hung back, behaving hysterically. What on earth is the matter with you? Surely you realise we can’t be engaged without a ring? People will be looking for that, especially this evening.’
‘I don’t want a ring and I don’t want to go out with you this evening. I don’t mind keeping up this pretence at work, but I will not put on a show for all your high-class friends to laugh at!’
His well-shaped mouth tightened angrily. ‘You say the most ridiculous things, do the most ridiculous things. You act far too impetuously, but I put that down to your youth. And my friends will not laugh at you, but they will think it odd if you aren’t wearing my ring. This isn’t something I care to discuss. I’ve already telephoned the jewellers and requested him to get together a selection of rings for you to look at.’ He looked at his wrist-watch. ‘He’s expecting us about now.’
‘I’m sure he’ll wait for the valued customer that you undoubtedly are. I suppose it’s the place you buy all the jewellery for your women,’ she said bitchily, for the moment not bothered by her outspokenness. She had already far overstepped the line as far as this arrogant man was concerned and nothing she said or did now could make matters any worse for her.
‘And if I do? What does that have to do with you?’
The fight went out of her at his coolness. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’
‘You suppose correct. Now, let’s go.’
‘Please!’ Brooke held on to his arm, liking the feel of the expensive material of his suit beneath her fingers. ‘Don’t make me do this.’
Jarrod’s dark head was held at a haughty angle, his grey eyes unyielding. There was no doubt that he was a hard man when crossed. He must terrify his business opponents into retreat; he certainly terrified her. ‘Must I keep reminding you that you started this?’ he drawled.
‘But do you have to take advantage of it?’ Her eyes pleaded with him.
‘Yes. Now that’s the last time we discuss this. From now on you’ll just do as you’re told. And there will be no repeat of your behaviour this morning,’ he added warningly.
They were walking along side by side now, Jarrod at last seeming to realise she had shorter legs than he did. She looked up at him innocently. ‘Did I do something