Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford
His light green eyes had gazed into hers, and she found she could not look away, mesmerized by him. Now she remembered how her heart had skipped a beat, and that his long, penetrating look had made her legs go slightly weak at the knees. Nothing had ever happened to her like that before; but then no man had looked at her quite like that, not ever in her entire adult life. A moment later, when he had taken hold of her arm to lead her over to the chair, his hand had seemed to scorch through the fabric of her jacket. She had been momentarily thrown, so attracted to him was she—
‘Evan. How are
you?
’
At the sound of Arlette’s lilting, lightly accented French voice, she sat up with a start and exclaimed, ‘I’m fine, Arlette. How nice to see you. And how’re you?’
‘I am well. Busy, busy. George is away on the business, so I am in command, as he calls it. And one needs the
bon courage
to be in charge of a hotel. Even a small one such as this.’
‘But you do everything so well, so I’m sure you run it exactly the same way George does.’ As she spoke Evan smiled at Arlette, her face dimpling.
Arlette, as always, was completely captivated by that warm, wide smile, which she found so infectious, and she smiled in return. There was something unique about this friendly, open, outgoing American girl who was full of such charm and grace. Now she asked, ‘Are you all right? Are you feeling better?’
‘I’m back to normal, thank you,’ Evan reassured her, and then she leaned forward from the waist, looked up at Arlette. ‘Can you sit for a minute? I’ve got some news for you.’
‘Mais oui, cherie.’
Arlette lowered herself onto the sofa next to Evan.
‘I got myself a job today, a wonderful job. At Harte’s store in Knightsbridge.’ Once again, Evan enthusiastically launched into the retelling of her experience at the store, explaining in detail about the events which had taken place. ‘And Linnet O’Neill hired me,’ she finally finished, settling back, a look of pleasure lighting up her lovely face. ‘I will be working in fashion with her.’
‘Très bien,
Evan! It is wonderful news. I know you like the fashion. And what made you pick Harte’s? Out of all the stores here?’
‘I’ve always wanted to work there. It’s the finest store in the world, in my opinion.’ Evan had no intention of confiding to Arlette her grandmother’s dying words; she would appear ridiculous if she did.
Arlette Thomas sat studying Evan for a moment or two, thinking how stunning she looked. The black hair was glossy, the complexion translucent, the blue-grey eyes huge pools in her delicate face. She was a beautiful woman, very feminine, yet compelling. Alluring to men, Arlette had no doubt, and there was also an air of refinement about her that the Frenchwoman admired.
‘And this young man?’ Arlette asked now. ‘The one who helped you this morning…will you be meeting him again soon?’
Evan gaped at her. ‘Oh, but he doesn’t work there.’
‘I didn’t mean seeing him at
work.’
Arlette gazed at the younger woman indulgently, shaking her head, pursing her lips.
Evan saw the merriment in Arlette’s dark eyes, noticed the hidden laughter twitching on her pretty mouth, and for a moment she wondered if this attractive and motherly Frenchwoman was teasing her. After only a moment she realized that she was not. Evan took a deep breath. ‘He was just trying to be helpful, that’s all,’ she protested.
Arlette sat up a little straighter, and crossed her legs, arranging her full red skirt over highly polished brown boots. After a moment’s consideration, she explained. ‘I was thinking of a
rendezvous
…a date with him?’ Those wise brown eyes lingered on Evan’s questioningly.
A deep pink flush spread from Evan’s neck up to her face, and she almost stuttered as she said, ‘I–I don’t think I will be meeting him again. Not in the way you mean, Arlette.’
‘No? You do not think so?’ The Frenchwoman sounded surprised and shook her head vigorously. ‘But I do.
Ah oui.
I am sure. You will have a
rendezvous
with him,
ma petite choux à la crème.
And in the not too distant future.’ Her lilting laughter rippled on the warm air once more. ‘It is…obvious…he had a hand in cutting through the red ribbon. At the store. Ah yes.
Absolument.’
‘The red ribbon?’ Evan frowned at her, looking puzzled.
‘Ah non, non.
I am stupid! Not the red ribbon. The red
tape.’
‘You’re right about that part, Arlette. But I’m not sure about a date with him. I don’t think he’s interested in me.’
‘Trust me,
cherie.
I am
older
than you,
and
I am a
Frenchwoman.
And we know about these things. We know about…
l’amour.’
Unbeknownst to Evan and Arlette, Gideon Harte, at that precise moment in time, was indeed thinking about a rendezvous with Evan Hughes.
He sat in his office at the Yorkshire Consolidated Newspaper Company, in a building on the other side of London, his mind on the young American woman. He had been thinking about her a lot, since meeting her in the corridor at Harte’s yesterday. There was something about her that was special. She totally held his interest, and there was no doubt that he wanted to see her again. And as soon as possible. He had discovered that he felt a sense of urgency about her, a need to be in her company, to discover more about her. At once. He was impatient to know more.
Gideon already knew that Linnet had hired her on a trial basis. His cousin had phoned to tell him that a short while ago. Furthermore, Linnet had thanked him profusely, as if he had led Evan by the hand to Harte’s, when, in fact, her arrival at the store had been happenstance, pure luck. And she had been enthusiastic about Evan Hughes, gone into minute detail about the meetings they had had. ‘She’s great for me,’ Linnet had just informed him. ‘She’s going to be wonderful. She’s a real find, Gid, and I know India’s going to like her as much as I do. Evan came up with some brilliant ideas. She bodes well for me, Gideon, she really does.’
Did she bode well for him? He hoped so. He wished he could call Evan right now, but he had no idea where to find her, and he certainly had no intention of phoning Linnet to ask for her number. He would deal with that tomorrow by calling Evan herself at the store.
Pushing his chair slightly away from the desk, he put his feet up on it, crossing his long legs at the ankles. Closing his eyes, he contemplated the new addition to Linnet’s staff.
Since there was a big push on to complete the retrospective, Linnet and Evan would be together a lot, which meant he would have easy access to Evan. In any case, he didn’t imagine there would be a problem about dating her. It had struck him that she had seemed interested in him, just as he was in her. He had seen her blushes, noted her fascination with him, felt the tremor in her arm when he had led her over to Linnet’s desk. Yes, she was taken with him. Well, he hoped she was.
Although he had never had much trouble with women, Gideon Harte was not a conceited man. In fact, in certain ways it was his lack of male vanity, his gentleness and a degree of diffidence that women found attractive. Although he was tall, good looking, and blessed with an easy charm, there was also a little boy quality in him which appealed to women, made them want to fuss over him, spoil him.
Gideon liked women, respected them, and especially admired those who were accomplished, who were doers and workers. He didn’t have much interest in women who wasted their time, had no job or profession. Yet all types of women flocked to him. The problem was he had never really been in love, had never met anyone he had wanted to get serious with. Until now.
Until now! Wow!
This unexpected thought brought him up with a start.
Snapping open his eyes, he sat straighter in the chair, and dropped his feet to the floor. Good God! He was thinking about getting serious with Evan Hughes, and he didn’t even
know
her! What was wrong with him? He must have gone mad.
After a moment’s contemplation he had the answer. He had fallen for her, fallen hard, and in the blink of an eye.
A
coup de foudre,
the French called it, a flash of lightning. Oh God, he thought, I’ve gone and fallen for a stranger I know nothing about. Maybe she’s engaged, or involved with another man. And maybe she’s not interested in me. Maybe I’ve imagined that, maybe it’s wishful thinking?
Puffing his cheeks, he blew out air, then settled back in the chair. What was it about her that was so
different?
Not necessarily her looks, even though she was beautiful, because he usually went for tall, slender, dark-haired women, exotic-looking women.
Perhaps it was her manner that had captivated him. She had been forthcoming in the corridor, and yet he had detected a reticence in her, an air of refinement. And then there was her extraordinary smile, which had made his heart do a flip, and those large liquid eyes that had seemed to swamp him. Clear, luminous eyes that were full of honesty, and trust.
I’m behaving like a schoolboy, he chastised himself. And I’m twenty-eight years old. I should know better. I mustn’t get carried away. That could be fatal for me, especially if she’s caught up with someone else.
She might even be engaged, he now decided. On the other hand, she hadn’t been wearing a ring. Still, that didn’t really signify anything these days. People were often engaged without a ring to show for it.
But I’ll get her a ring, he thought. A sapphire ring. No, aquamarine to match the colour of her eyes. Hey, slow down, he muttered under his breath. You’re running ahead of yourself. But he couldn’t help it. No two ways about it. He wanted Evan Hughes.
Gideon’s eyes shifted to the door at the sound of knocking. ‘Come in,’ he called, and then instantly jumped to his feet at the sight of his father on the threshold.
‘Hi, Dad,’ he exclaimed, walking towards him.
‘Hello, my boy,’ Winston Harte said, giving him a broad smile.
After they had embraced, and Gideon had led his father to a chair near his desk, he said, ‘I thought you were in Yorkshire, Dad. What’re you doing in London?’
‘I came up to town for a meeting at the television studios, and I wanted to see you anyway.’
Gideon raised a brow quizzically. ‘What about?’
‘Christian Palmer.’
‘Oh God, Dad, I knew you were going to say that. Look, I don’t seem to make any inroads with him. You know what he’s like, so tough-minded. He won’t come back, Dad. He’s busy writing his book.’
Winston sighed. ‘I figured you’d say that, although I knew you’d stay on top of it. I’ve always said you’re like a dog with a bone. But look here, there must be some inducement we can offer?’
Sitting down at his desk, Gideon nodded. ‘I think there is, but it’s going to cost us.’
‘Whatever it is, Christian’s worth it. He’s the best damned editor we’ve ever had, and I believe we need him back here. So, what’s the price?’
‘He loves that house he’s renting on the Isle of Man. I’m sure if we offer to buy it for him he’ll agree to come back.’
‘How much?’
‘I’m not sure, Dad. I’ll go into it with him, if you’re in agreement. It’s a nice house, and he’s rented it off and on for a number of years. He’s become very attached to it.’
‘Whereabouts is it on the Isle of Man?’
‘Just outside Douglas. In an area where he used to go with his parents as a child. He finds the Manx way of life very easy, very compatible, and of course he has peace and quiet to write his books. Furthermore, it’s not difficult to get to, you know, just a plane trip from Lancashire.’
‘It’s not exactly an easy commute,’ Winston pointed out, shaking his head. ‘And are you sure the house will be enough of an inducement? He might want something else?’
‘I doubt it. Christian’s not like that, and listen, he might not even go for the deal. He’s hell-bent on doing some serious writing, you know.’
‘All I know is that he is the best editor Fleet Street has ever seen, except for Arthur Christiansen, and he was king of the heap sixty years ago. He made the
Daily Express.
Palmer’s cut from the same cloth. Editors with their talent and brilliance don’t often come along. So, do your best, my boy. Get him to come back, whatever the cost.’
‘Okay, but it might mean a bigger contract as well’
‘That’s not a problem, Gideon,’ Winston said briskly. ‘I learned years ago from Aunt Emma that when you want someone or something badly enough, the price doesn’t really matter. That’s how important Christian Palmer is to this company. So do your stuff.’
‘I think I’ll have to go and see him,’ Gideon said, thinking aloud. ‘I’ll talk to him on the phone tomorrow, and suggest a visit next week.’ Gideon chuckled. ‘I wish it were the middle of the summer, not the dead of winter. The Isle of Man is superb in warm weather, but a bit chilly at this time of year.’
‘You’re right about that. I wish we could tempt Christian to come back to the Land of the White Rose…I always thought he loved Yorkshire, loved his house in Ripon.’
‘I think there’s another inducement on the Isle of Man, Dad. A particular lady he’s very attached to, quite aside from his fondness for that cottage.’
‘Oh, it’s a cottage is it?’
Again, Gideon chuckled. ‘A big one though.’
‘Make the deal with him, and the sooner the better.’
‘Listen, Dad, hang on a minute. I think we’ll have to wait for him until he finishes the book. In fact, I’m sure of it. Once he’s delivered to the publishers he’ll be lost, bored silly. That’s when he’ll come back, and only then.’
‘So be it. I’ll agree to whatever he wants. And dangle a new contract. Make it a good offer, an offer he can’t refuse. Now, do you have a date tonight, Gideon? Stupid question, I suppose you do.’
‘No, I don’t, as a matter of fact. Why?’
‘I’m at a loose end, with your mother in Yorkshire. It occurred to me we might have dinner together.’
‘Great idea, Dad. I’d love it,’ Gideon said, meaning this. But he couldn’t help thinking about Evan Hughes. She insinuated herself into his thoughts again.