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In Separate Bedrooms
Carole Mortimer
No sleep for the wicked…Multi-millionaire Jack Beauchamp can have any woman he wants – so when florist Mattie Crawford sees a chance to teach this playboy a lesson she has no idea it can go so wrong. Now he’s demanding she compensate him by accompanying him on a weekend in Paris…A romantic weekend in the French capital with the most handsome, charming man she’s ever met is a fitting punishment – especially as she’s vowed to keep him at arm’s length. Mattie’s praying for separate bedrooms to keep her on the straight and narrow, but she already knows this charismatic man won’t let her off that easily!




About the Author
CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon. Carole has six sons: Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.’
Recent titles by the same author:
A TOUCH OF NOTORIETY
A TASTE OF THE FORBIDDEN
(Buenos Aires Nights) HIS REPUTATION PRECEDES HIM (The Lyonedes Legacy) DEFYING DRAKON (The Lyonedes Legacy)
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

In Separate
Bedrooms
Carole Mortimer





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE
‘THE man is nothing but a womaniser!’ Mattie told her mother, every inch of her slender five-feet-two-inch-frame bristling with emotion, blue eyes sparkling brightly in the delicate beauty of her heart-shaped face. Even her wild mane of tawny-coloured, below shoulder-length hair seemed to spark with the intensity of her indignation.
‘Mattie, it sounds to me as if you’ve made another one of your snap judgements,’ her mother admonished lightly as she sat behind her desk. ‘And we both know how often they’ve been wrong in the past,’ she added. ‘Besides, Mattie,’ she continued gently, ‘are you sure you aren’t just overreacting because after dating Richard for three months last year you found out he was actually engaged to marry someone else?’
In truth, Mattie preferred not to think of the humiliation she had felt when Richard had informed her they couldn’t see each other any more because he was getting married the following week!
‘Although, from what you’ve told me about him, this man does sound a little—free with his company,’ her mother conceded as Mattie went on looking fretful.
‘A little?’ Mattie repeated disgustedly. ‘I told you, the man has four women on the go, Mum. Four!’ she echoed incredulously. ‘And three of them appear to be married.’
‘Then they ought to know better,’ her mother dismissed, an older, slightly plumper version of her pretty daughter. ‘I’m afraid it’s a fact of life that some men seem to think there’s safety in numbers!’
Mattie frowned. ‘Safety from what?’
‘Marriage-minded women, usually.’ Her mother smiled wryly.
‘What woman in her right mind could possibly want to marry a man like that?’ Mattie scorned. ‘He’s nothing but a greedy pig!’
‘Personally, I think he ought to be taken out into the streets and publicly whipped,’ drawled a huskily amused—distinctly male!—voice.
Mattie froze where she stood in front of the desk behind which her mother sat working, very reluctant to turn round, her face bright red with embarrassment. She had been totally unaware that their conversation was being listened to—and by a man, of all people!
Her mother felt no such awkwardness, smiling across the room at the man as she stood up to move around her desk. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Jack Beauchamp,’ the man introduced. ‘I telephoned you yesterday about the possibility of booking my dog in here next weekend. You suggested I come and have a look round first,’ he reminded her.
Mattie’s face went pale. This man was a potential customer—at least, his dog was!—at her mother’s boarding-kennels …?
‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything …?’ he added with light query. ‘You did say I could call in some time on Sunday afternoon.’
Mattie swallowed hard, desperately willing the colour back into her cheeks, knowing she had never felt so mortified—and uncomfortable—in her life.
‘Of course, Mr Beauchamp,’ her mother replied smoothly. ‘I’ll be quite happy to show you round. You have a Bearded Collie, I believe?’
Good old Mum. Mattie smiled affectionately; she never forgot a dog or its breed—although very often the owners were another matter entirely.
‘Harry,’ Jack Beauchamp confirmed. ‘But if you’re busy, I’m quite happy for your assistant to show me round …?’
Assistant? Yes, that was probably exactly what she seemed to this man, Mattie conceded. After all, she was dressed in jeans and skimpy blue tee shirt, ideal wear for working in the kennels. In fact, she usually gave her mother a hand on Sundays. It just wasn’t what she did the rest of the week …
She drew in a deep breath before turning, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself looking at the most attractive man she had ever set her deep blue eyes on!
Probably aged in his early thirties, tall, and leanly built, his dark hair kept fashionably short, he had the deepest brown eyes Mattie had ever seen. Like liquid chocolate, she decided. Warm.
Caressing. Fathomless. And the rest of his face wasn’t bad, either, she conceded grudgingly; lean and tanned, his nose looking as if it might have been broken some years back, his mouth full and smiling, only the stubborn set of the chin belying his relaxed pose in a black tee shirt and dark blue denims.
‘I would be happy to show you around, Mr Beauchamp.’ She nodded coolly. ‘As you say, my mother is rather busy at the moment,’ she finished pointedly.
‘Ah.’ He nodded, those deep brown eyes openly laughing at her now, at her subtle correction of who she was.
No ‘I’m sorry for the mistake.’ No polite ‘I should have realized, the two of you are very alike.’ Just that slightly mocking ‘ah’!
‘Oh, but—’
‘Do please carry on with what you were doing, Mum,’ Mattie interrupted firmly, her hackles very definitely up. ‘I’m sure Mr Beauchamp and I can manage very well together.’
Her mother shot her a worriedly questioning look. A look Mattie met with an innocent raise of her tawny brows. Her mother probably didn’t realize it, but Mattie was in just the mood to deal with the over-confident Mr Beauchamp! Or perhaps, after their recent conversation, about greedy pigs, her mother did realize it, and that was why she was looking so worried …
The boarding-kennels had been going through a hard time in the last year, too many people seeing the opportunity to run their own business from their own home, and jumping on the bandwagon, having no real idea of the hard work involved, the long hours of business, being on call twenty-four hours a day to their furry charges.
But The Woofdorf was, as its name implied, a superior boarding-kennels in Mattie’s—biased?—opinion and had been her mother’s pride and joy for the last twenty years. A fact Jack Beauchamp—although he didn’t realize it—was about to find out.
She gave him a withering look. ‘If you would like to follow me, Mr Beauchamp, I will show you our indoor accommodation for our guests.’
‘Blow in my ear, and I’ll follow you anywhere.’
Mattie turned sharply at these startling words, frowning darkly as she found Jack Beauchamp had taken her literally concerning the instruction ‘follow me’, and he was now standing so close to her she found herself with her nose almost pressed against the muscled hardness of his chest.
She took an involuntary step backwards before answering him. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Surely he couldn’t really have said what she had thought he had—murmured, really; her mother, smiling after them politely, certainly didn’t seem to have heard those provocative words.
Jack Beauchamp’s gaze met hers with unblinking innocence. ‘I said the weather is very pleasant for this time of year,’ he said pleasantly, dark gaze laughingly challenging. In fact, the man seemed to have been inwardly laughing at her since the moment he’d interrupted her conversation with her mother.
And Mattie didn’t believe for a moment that he had said what he claimed he had!
‘After you, Mr Beauchamp,’ she invited stiffly as she pointedly held the door open for him to precede her outside.
‘No, after you, Miss Crawford.’ He gave a mocking inclination of his dark head.
Mattie was sure it wasn’t an accident that, just as she was about to go through the doorway, he decided to go through it too, crushing her back up against the doorframe, the softness of her shapely curves pressed against his body from chest to thigh.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered as the two of them popped through the doorway together like a cork from a champagne bottle.
‘My pleasure,’ he drawled, his dark gaze definitely mocking now as the two of them stood outside in the spring sunshine.
She would just bet it was, her whole body tingling from the unexpected contact with his, even more convinced as he gave a disarming grin that he had done it on purpose.
‘Perhaps if you didn’t follow quite so closely, Mr Beauchamp …’ she said tersely.
His mouth was still curved into that increasingly infuriating smile. ‘I’ll try not to, Miss Crawford,’ he obeyed as he followed her down the flowered pathway to the indoor kennels. ‘You seem slightly familiar,’ he murmured quizzically after several seconds. ‘Could we possibly have met before?’
Mattie drew in a deep breath. Could he possibly have realized what she really did for a living, how the two of them had in fact met? If he had, then it wasn’t going to take too much guesswork on his part to add two and two together and come up with the required four. Nothing for it; for the sake of her mother’s business, she would just have to deny all knowledge!
She glanced back to answer him—only to find his gaze very firmly fixed on the graceful sway of her hips as she walked.
Well, really! Didn’t the man ever switch from flirtation mode down to coasting? Today, at least, she was the equivalent of a kennel-maid, for goodness’ sake!
‘Somehow I very much doubt that we move in the same social circles, Mr Beauchamp,’ she responded.
‘I don’t have a social circle, Miss Crawford,’ he drawled. ‘No, I’m sure I’ve never met you at a party or anything like that,’ he continued slowly, dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he now studied the delicate beauty of her face. ‘I just have a feeling of—familiarity.’ He gave a rueful shrug.
‘Well, I can assure you I don’t have the same feeling.’ Mattie gave a dismissive laugh, long sooty lashes coming down to cover the anger now blazing in her eyes. And he could take that remark however he chose—either they had never met before, or he was so unremarkable that she didn’t remember him!
Except that she did …
‘This way,’ she instructed sharply, unlocking the door that went through to the indoor kennels, a riotous barking beginning as the dogs sensed company. ‘All our rooms are carpeted, as well as centrally heated.’ She reached down and stroked each of the dogs through wire-netted doors as they passed the rooms. ‘There is also a chair for those that prefer it. The basket and bedding is replaced with each new guest, although we appreciate that very often you prefer to bring your pet’s own bedding.’ She launched automatically into professional dialogue, having helped her mother in the kennels on weekends for as long as she could remember. Besides, her mother’s rates weren’t cheap, but she wanted Jack Beauchamp to know that the guests did get value for money. ‘We also provide a television set for those guests who like to watch the soaps,’ she explained indulgently. ‘As you can see—’ she came to a halt as she realized she had lost Jack Beauchamp at the second kennel.
He was down on his haunches in front of the wire mesh door, being rapturously greeted by the Yellow Labrador staying there.
Mattie strolled back to join him, her own expression softening as she too bent to scratch Sophie behind the ear. ‘She’s rather lovely, isn’t she?’ she said quietly, the Labrador having long ago become a favourite of hers.
‘Absolutely gorgeous!’ Jack Beauchamp turned to grin at her, that flirtatious charm wiped away in his genuine pleasure in the dog’s ecstatic greeting. ‘And so friendly,’ he added warmly.
Mattie’s breath caught in her throat at his sudden boyishness. He was just too good-looking for his own good. Or hers!
‘Sophie is just pleased to see anyone,’ she bit out curtly, instantly realizing how rude she had sounded, but unable to take it back now she had said it. Besides, she did not want to find this man attractive! ‘Her elderly owner died three months ago,’ she told him grudgingly at his questioning look. ‘The family don’t want Sophie, and instructed my mother to have her put down. Which is why we still have her.’
There was no way her mother could have a healthy animal put to sleep—which was how they had ended up with four dogs of their own, already! No way could she send Sophie to a dogs’ home either, for the very same reason; Sophie might not find a new owner, and so might possibly meet the same fate.
Ordinarily Sophie would have been out of the kennel following her mother around as she worked, but as her mother had been expecting a visitor—this visitor, as it turned out!—she had put Sophie in one of the kennel rooms just for the afternoon.
‘That’s terrible.’ Jack Beauchamp straightened frowningly, still absently stroking Sophie behind one ear.
‘Yes,’ Mattie acknowledged heavily, in total agreement with him. Over that, at least! ‘If you would like to come this way …’ she returned to her brisk, businesslike tone ‘… I will show you one of the empty rooms so that you can see exactly where—Harry?—will be staying if you decide to book him in for next weekend.’ Something Mattie, in spite of her mother’s need for business, hoped he wouldn’t do. She had already agreed to help her mother over the Easter weekend, which meant she was more than likely to bump into Jack Beauchamp again then!
‘It’s certainly luxurious,’ Jack Beauchamp acknowledged a few minutes later, sitting down in the armchair that stood to one side of the guest room.
‘Dogs are such loving, giving creatures, we feel they deserve the best,’ Mattie rejoined.
Brown eyes surveyed her unemotionally for several long seconds. ‘I agree,’ he finally answered. ‘Harry is going to love it here.’ He stood up. ‘I know it must sound slightly strange to you, but Harry has been with me since he was a puppy; he’s six now, and he’s never been away to kennels before.’
Mattie softened slightly. Having grown up with animals, she had the same weakness for them as her mother did. And there was no doubting that Jack Beauchamp—whatever else he might be!—cared about his dog very much.
‘I’m sure he’ll be fine here with us,’ she assured him as he once again bent down to make a fuss of Sophie. ‘Let me take you outside and show you the spaciously individual runs we have for each guest.’ She carefully locked the doors behind them as they went back outside. ‘Although each dog is taken for a long walk every day too,’ she hastened to add.
Jack Beauchamp gave that disarming grin once again. ‘This is more comfortable than some human hotels!’
‘Yes,’ Mattie acknowledged ruefully. It had taken a lot of capital to build this luxurious boarding-kennels in the first place, took even more for its upkeep, but it certainly was a first-class hotel for canines.
He quirked dark brows. ‘Do you and your mother run it on your own, or do you have help?’ he asked conversationally as they strolled back to the front office.
‘We have help,’ Mattie answered evasively. ‘But I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s a beautiful setting?’ she deliberately changed the subject. After all, it was really none of this man’s business whether or not she helped her mother on a full-time basis.
It was a beautiful setting too. Only a few miles outside London, they were nevertheless surrounded by countryside, their own large garden a riot of spring flowers.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured in agreement.
Mattie turned to look at him, her breath catching in her throat as she saw Jack Beauchamp wasn’t looking at the garden at all, but at her!
Well, really!
She stiffened resentfully. ‘I’ll pass you over to my mother now, so that the two of you can sort out the details for your pet’s stay,’ she told him briskly as they re-entered the office. Her mother looked up with a smile, Mattie’s barely perceptible nod of confirmation erasing some of the anxiety from her eyes.
‘I hope you found everything to your liking, Mr Beauchamp?’ Her mother smiled at him warmly.
‘Everything,’ he confirmed softly.
Once again Mattie looked up to find him looking at her rather than her mother. He was doing it again!
‘And please call me Jack,’ he invited her mother.
‘Diana,’ her mother returned happily, obviously feeling none of the awkwardness around this attractive man that Mattie obviously did.
Of course her mother was about ten years older than Jack Beauchamp, whereas Mattie was around ten years younger. But even so, her mother was still an attractive woman, had also been a widow for a very long time. Admittedly her mother had always claimed to have loved Mattie’s father too much to ever become involved again, but surely a woman would have to be almost dead herself not to be aware of Jack Beauchamp’s good looks?
‘Exactly how did you come to hear of The Woofdorf, Jack?’ her mother continued conversationally, the complete professional when it came to her beloved boarding-kennels. ‘It’s always nice to know these things. Was it a personal recommendation, or did you perhaps see one of our ads—?’
‘Strangely enough I found some of your cards lying around in the office. I have no idea who could have put them there.’
Mattie suddenly became very interested in the dozens of photographs that adorned one of the walls of the office, hoping that neither her mother, nor Jack Beauchamp, had noticed how anxious she’d suddenly become.
‘Obviously a lucky find,’ he acknowledged warmly.
‘Obviously,’ her mother agreed; no doubt thinking, for us as well as Jack Beauchamp.
He nodded. ‘I was explaining to your daughter earlier that Harry has never been away to kennels before—even one as luxurious as this,’ he allowed. ‘It’s just that I really have to be in Paris next weekend, and as the whole family is going, there just isn’t anyone left here who I can leave him with, as I usually do when I have to go away. I have to admit—’ he grimaced ‘—that I’ve left it this late in booking because I’ve been putting off the evil day for as long as possible.’
Family? What family? Surely this man wasn’t married, too?
‘Every owner feels as you do the first time, Jack,’ her mother told him kindly. ‘But I do assure you, we will take very good care of Harry. If—’
‘I hope you’ll both excuse me,’ Mattie cut in abruptly, suddenly really anxious to get away from the company of this particular man. ‘I—I really must go and—and—er—I have some things to do,’ she finished lamely.
But Jack Beauchamp had paused in the doorway on his way in, and was still effectively blocking Mattie’s exit as she turned to leave. ‘I must thank you for showing me round,’ he told her quietly. ‘It was very nice meeting you, Miss Crawford.’
She looked up at him unblinkingly. ‘And you, Mr Beauchamp,’ she returned politely—if insincerely. Obviously she didn’t merit the privilege of being asked to call him by his first name! Which was okay with her—she would probably have choked on it, anyway.
He smiled, laughter still lurking in the depths of those dark brown eyes—as if he were well aware of her chagrin at the omission. ‘I do hope we’ll meet again,’ he finally said softly.
Contrarily, Mattie hoped for no such thing. Although, in the circumstances, she knew it was a pretty useless hope.
‘Probably next weekend—if you do decide to bring Harry to us,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Now, if you will excuse me …?’ She looked at him pointedly as he still blocked her exit.
‘Certainly.’ He stepped neatly aside.
Mattie couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Her chest felt as if it were going to explode from lack of air.
So that was Jack Beauchamp.
Well, he was good-looking enough, she would give him that. Charming too, if you ignored all that staring he did. Her mother appeared to like him too. But then, her mother liked and trusted nearly everyone, even the young kennel-maid who had stolen money from her the previous year, so that was no recommendation, either.
But how could Mattie possibly have even guessed that her leaving those cards for The Woofdorf all over the offices of JB Industries would result in the man himself turning up here to board his dog over the Easter weekend? She couldn’t, came the obvious answer.
But she was certainly going to have some explaining to do to her mother once Jack Beauchamp had left!
Because the man she had described to her mother earlier as a womaniser and a greedy pig—and even he had suggested, albeit mockingly—that such a man should be taken out into the streets and publicly whipped, was none other than Jack Beauchamp himself!

CHAPTER TWO
‘WHAT an absolutely charming man,’ Mattie’s mother turned from waving to Jack as he drove away in the red sports car a little time later.
Mattie had very good reason for thinking otherwise. And, in all fairness to her mother, Mattie thought, perhaps she ought to tell her what those reasons were.
‘So natural and friendly, despite his obvious wealth. No side to him, as your grandfather would have said,’ Diana added affectionately. ‘Anyway, he’s booked Harry in for four days over the Easter holiday, so we’re almost fully booked up now for that period. I have to admit—Mattie, what is it?’ She suddenly seemed to become aware of her daughter’s less-than-enthusiastic expression.
Confirming that Mattie looked as sick as she felt! Because only an hour ago she had been describing that charming man in a totally different way to her mother. Not that Mattie went back on one single thing she had previously said about Jack Beauchamp, she just knew she wouldn’t be able to leave her mother in ignorance as to his identity.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘I had no idea you pronounced the name Beauchamp as Beecham,’ she began slowly. ‘If I had I—well, I—’ She would have what? No matter how you pronounced the man’s name, he was still everything she had said he was; not only did he have four girlfriends that she already knew about, but it turned out he had a family of his own too!
‘Mattie …?’ Her mother frowned at her suspiciously. ‘Mattie, what have you done?’ she prompted warily.
‘Done?’ Mattie repeated, her voice slightly higher than usual, then clearing her throat to bring it down in tone. ‘What makes you think I’ve done something?’ she said over-brightly, deciding that coming clean to her mother wasn’t going to be easy to do, after all.
‘Because I know you too well, Mattie,’ her mother admitted worriedly. ‘I also know that you’ve been getting into one scrape or another all your life … What does it matter how you pronounce Jack Beauchamp’s name?’ she asked slowly.
It mattered a lot when you glanced in your mother’s appointment book for today and saw no connection between the name Jack Beecham—her mother had obviously spelt the name as it had been spoken to her over the telephone—and Jonathan Beauchamp, of JB Industries!
‘It doesn’t,’ she sighed. ‘Not really. But— Oh, Mum, you’re right; I’ve done something awful!’ She gave a pained grimace.
And when Jack Beauchamp found out exactly what it was she had done he was unlikely to bring his dog anywhere near her mother’s boarding-kennels!
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ her mother pressed gently, accustomed over the years to her daughter’s acts of impetuosity—followed by Mattie’s inevitable feelings of regret.
Talking about it was the very last thing Mattie wanted to do! But she really didn’t have a choice in this case. ‘I suppose I’ll have to.’ She sighed heavily.
‘Does it merit coffee or hot chocolate?’ her mother probed; in the past, coffee had always been chosen for a minor indiscretion, hot chocolate for a really major one!
Mattie looked forlorn. ‘In all honesty, I think this one may call for a glass of whisky!’
Her mother’s blonde brows rose almost to her hairline; none of Mattie’s confessions had ever merited whisky before! But over the years there had certainly been a lot of them; more often than not the impulsive Mattie acted first and thought later. This definitely sounded like one of those occasions.
‘Back to the house, I think,’ her mother decided ruefully.
Mattie followed reluctantly, knowing the next few minutes were going to be far from pleasant. Not least because she now suspected her mother might have been right in her initial summing up of the situation. Mattie probably had overreacted to Jonathan Beauchamp—because of the two-timing Richard!
Not that she had changed her mind about Jonathan Beauchamp’s behaviour—not in the least!—but maybe she wouldn’t have done quite what she had done if it weren’t for her own humiliating experience where Richard had been concerned.
Her mother made them both tea rather than the suggested whisky, the two of them sitting down at the table in their cluttered but comfortable kitchen, four dogs milling affectionately around their feet.
‘Well, Matilda-May?’ her mother prompted after several minutes of Mattie sitting staring broodingly into her teacup.
Mattie winced at the use of her full name. ‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that,’ she protested. ‘In fact, I think it was very unkind of you to name me that at all. Just because your mother was named Matilda, and Dad’s was called May, was really no reason—’
‘Mattie, you can delay this as long as you like,’ her mother cut in crisply, ‘but in the end you’re still going to have to tell me what it is you’ve done,’ she reasoned.
Mattie swallowed hard, sighing deeply before speaking. ‘You remember the womaniser?’
‘The woma—? Oh, you mean the man you were telling me about earlier, the one who has four girlfriends?’ her mother recalled.
‘That’s the one,’ Mattie confirmed awkwardly. ‘Well, Jack Beauchamp is Jonathan Beauchamp!’ she burst out. ‘Him. It. He’s the womaniser!’ she revealed reluctantly. ‘What I mean is—’
‘I think I get your drift, Mattie,’ her mother acknowledged dryly. ‘He’s the man you were so angry about earlier today? The man whose secretary placed his order with you yesterday to send out four bouquets to his numerous girlfriends?’
Mattie took a quick swallow of her tea, burning her mouth in the process. But, in the circumstances, she decided, she probably deserved the discomfort!
How could she have been so stupid? So unprofessional? At the time she had thought she was being so clever; having now met Jack Beauchamp she had no idea how he was going to react to what she had done. But she could probably take a pretty good guess …!
So much for her own job of running a successful florists, for some lucrative contracts she also had to service the plants and greenery at half a dozen office complexes—JB Industries being one of them. And Jack Beauchamp was JB Industries!
If he decided to turn nasty over what she had done, she might just find herself losing all of those contracts, and the florist’s shop too! As for her mother being allowed to look after the man’s dog—!
‘Yes,’ Mattie confirmed flatly.
‘But you dealt with his order, didn’t you?’ Her mother looked puzzled.
‘Oh, I dealt with it, all right,’ Mattie agreed, giving another wince at what else she had done. ‘You see, I had delivered four bouquets for him to those four women at Christmas—’
‘I suppose that shows he’s been involved with the same four women for the last four months at least,’ her mother reasoned.
‘The thing is,’ Mattie began reluctantly, ‘his secretary gave me the order, and he—he had already written out four cards to go with each bouquet. And I—Mum—I changed the cards around!’ she admitted guiltily, utterly dismayed herself now to realize exactly what she had done.
She was twenty-three years old; it was high time she stopped doing things like this!
‘And he wasn’t even original,’ she continued in her own defence as her mother looked stunned by the admission. ‘He had written “Sandy, much love, J”, “Tina, much love, J”, “Sally, much love, J”, and “Cally, much love, J”, and so I—well, I thought perhaps they ought to be made aware of each other’s existence. So I put Tina’s card in with Cally’s bouquet, Sandy’s card in with Tina’s, Sally’s card in with Sandy’s, and Cally’s in with Sally’s. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I— Mum, you aren’t crying, are you?’ She looked worriedly across the table at her mother as she suddenly buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking emotionally. ‘I’ll go to him, I’ll explain what I did, tell him—’ Mattie broke off as her mother dropped her hands to look across at her, her own eyes widening incredulously as she saw her mother was laughing, not crying!
‘Oh, Mattie, Mattie.’ Her mother shook her head, still choked with laughter. ‘You most certainly will have to go and explain things to him. Quite how you’re going to do that, I have no idea.’ She sobered slightly. ‘I thought the Richard incident was disastrous, expected his fiancée to turn up on our doorstep demanding an explanation right up to the morning of the wedding!’ She shook her head wearily. ‘But this …!’
‘Be fair, Mum,’ Mattie protested. ‘The Richard thing wasn’t exactly my fault. There was no way I could have guessed he was already engaged.’
‘No,’ her mother acceded with affection. ‘But, you have to admit, this latest escapade is certainly the biggest Mattie mess-up so far.’ She gave another shake of her head as she obviously tried to contain the laughter.
So far? After this Mattie never intended interfering again! Ever!
‘It isn’t funny, Mum,’ she responded reprovingly at her mother as Diana lost the battle with her laughter and began to chuckle once again.
‘No, it isn’t,’ her mother agreed, tears of laughter falling softly down her cheeks now.
‘Then I wish you would stop laughing!’ Mattie sighed, then even her own mouth began to twitch with the same laughter. ‘He’s going to kill me,’ she realized. ‘String me up by my thumbs. Hang me from the nearest tree—’
‘Darling, if he does the first one he really won’t need to bother with the second and third,’ her mother reasoned, wiping the dampness from her cheeks with a tissue before offering the box to Mattie.
‘He looks the type who would do them just for the fun of it!’ Mattie muttered, blowing her nose noisily with one of the tissues, not sure now whether she wanted to laugh or cry herself; Jack Beauchamp, if he chose, had the power to ruin her!
Her mother gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I suppose you did definitely deliver those bouquets yesterday?’
But they both knew her question was rhetorical. Mattie made a point of always delivering bouquets and floral arrangements at the time requested. It was one of the reasons that she had so many regular customers. Although she doubted she would be able to continue to list Jack Beauchamp amongst their number after this weekend’s deliberate mix-up!
‘If it’s any consolation, Mattie, Jack Beauchamp wasn’t sporting any visible wounds this afternoon that could have been given to him by an outraged girlfriend!’ Her mother grinned.
‘It isn’t,’ Mattie returned heavily; she might feel a little less devastated if she knew something positive had resulted from her—she admitted it now!—latest reckless action. A black eye, at least from one of the women might have made her feel her actions had been justified! ‘I absolutely hate the thought of having to go to the man and telling him what I’ve done,’ she admitted.
Her mother nodded. ‘Having met Jack Beauchamp, I can understand that. But I also have a feeling that if you don’t go and see him then he’ll be coming in to the florist’s to see you tomorrow, anyway!’
Mattie had the same feeling. And it was probably better to be at least half in charge of the situation rather than completely on the defensive. Besides, this didn’t just affect her; possibly she had also jeopardized her mother’s booking to board Jack Beauchamp’s dog over the Easter weekend.
The weekend. When he was going away to Paris with his family.
His family …
Maybe she wouldn’t have to go quite so apologetically on bended knee, after all; if Jack Beauchamp already had a wife and family, then he shouldn’t be sending flowers to other women in the first place!
She began to hope that, perhaps, she might be able to salvage her own professional reputation from this mess, after all. Jack Beauchamp could hardly make too much of a fuss over those wrongly addressed cards on the flowers without causing some domestic discomfort to himself.
Better to think positively, she told herself firmly. After all, what could the man really do to her …?
She felt rather less sure of herself the following day when she faced Jack Beauchamp across the width of the imposing desk in his equally impressive office!
She had intended going to his home the previous evening, but the address and telephone number he had given her mother were those of his offices in the City, leaving Mattie with no choice but to wait until Monday to speak to him.
She had worried all evening, and hardly slept through the night, as she imagined at least one of his girlfriends having contacted him concerning the wrongly named card attached to her bouquet.
Her mother had looked at her across the breakfast table this morning, had taken in at a glance the heaviness of Mattie’s eyes, and the strained look on her face, handed her a cup of coffee, and, without speaking a word, gone outside to feed her canine guests.
Which was just as well, because Mattie hadn’t felt like talking. Not that she felt like talking now, either, but she knew she didn’t have any choice in the matter this time!
It didn’t help that Jack Beauchamp looked much less approachable today in a dark business suit, cream shirt, and neatly knotted tie, than he had when he’d visited the boarding-kennels yesterday.
But he looked calm enough—he didn’t have the look of a man whose personal life was imploding!
Oh, well, she chivvied herself along even as she drew in a deep breath, she might as well get this over with; delaying any further wasn’t going to make it any easier.
‘Mr Beauchamp—’
‘Jack,’ he invited lightly, sitting back in his high-backed leather chair to look across at her assessingly.
Now why couldn’t he have been more friendly yesterday, Mattie thought to herself. Not that it would have made her confession today any easier, but it would certainly have been more pleasant—
‘My secretary explained that when you phoned first thing this morning you said it was urgent you see me today.’ Jack Beauchamp sat forward to rest his arms on the desk.
Of course Mattie had said it was urgent that she needed to see him—once she had told Claire Thomas who she was, because that was the only way the other woman would agree to fit her into Mr Beauchamp’s busy schedule for a few minutes before lunch. Although, Mattie had been warned, Jack Beauchamp did have an appointment at one o’clock.
As it was ten minutes to that hour now, she had better get this over with!
‘Is there a problem with Harry’s booking for the weekend?’ Jack Beauchamp frowned.
‘Not that I know of,’ Mattie dismissed hastily. ‘I—I’m not here in my capacity as my mother’s assistant.’
Dark brows rose over chocolate-brown eyes as Jack Beauchamp’s expression became speculative now. ‘No?’ he drawled, some of yesterday’s warmth returning to those come-to-bed eyes. ‘Then why is it so urgent that you see me?’
Certainly not for the reason he seemed to be imagining, Mattie thought impatiently. Really, the man was back in seduction mode again!
She had deliberately dressed in a businesslike way herself today, in a navy blue suit and pale blue blouse, in the hope that it might give her the necessary boost of confidence she needed to tell him about the mix-up with the cards. As she felt the dampness of her palms, the inner panic that made her want to turn tail and run, she knew that ploy had failed utterly!
She grimaced. ‘I don’t actually work at the boarding-kennels, Mr—er, Jack,’ she corrected herself. Try and keep this pleasant, she instructed herself firmly.
Who knew? There was always the possibility that he would see the funny side of this.
Oh, yes? she instantly taunted herself. In the same circsumstances, would she?
No, of course not—but then she would never have got herself into such a romantic tangle in the first place. But hadn’t she done exactly that—albeit unwillingly—with Richard …?
‘You don’t?’ Jonathan Beauchamp mused softly now. ‘Then exactly what is it that you do, Mattie?’
He had known her first name all the time! Well … probably not all the time, she conceded, but no doubt her mother had casually dropped it into their conversation somewhere yesterday. And yet he had insisted on continuing to use the formality of her surname … Not a good sign!
‘I actually work for you—well, not exactly,’ she amended, ‘but you are one of my clients, and—’
‘Mattie, could you stop and go back a few steps?’ he interrupted her, laughter now lurking in those warm brown eyes and around those finely chiselled lips. ‘Before I go off on completely the wrong tangent, perhaps you had better tell me exactly what your profession is?’
What did he mean, a wrong tangent? Exactly what did he imagine—?
‘I’m a florist, Mr Beauchamp!’ she told him coldly as a certain profession sprang to mind. ‘I am the proprietor of Green and Beautiful,’ she added for good measure, glaring at him as her thoughts lingered briefly on that other profession.
How dared he—? How could he—? Did she look like—?
Mattie’s mind went blank, her mouth dry, as she saw the dawning realization on his face—a face that was rapidly darkening with what looked suspiciously like—
‘Ah,’ he said slowly—as if he had suddenly been given the answer to a riddle that had been bothering him. ‘In that case, could this urgent need to see me today possibly have anything to do with the mix-up concerning the cards I requested be included with the delivery of certain bouquets over the weekend …?’
At least one of those four women had been in contact with him, after all!
Mattie was sure she must have a sick expression back on her face. If only—
‘I was actually going to contact you myself later today,’ Jack Beauchamp continued, no warmth in that chocolate-brown gaze now—in fact, his whole expression had suddenly become enigmatically unreadable.
‘I had a feeling you might,’ Mattie acknowledged quickly.
‘And you thought you would circumvent that visit by coming here to see me instead?’ he prompted in that silkily soft voice.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed abruptly. ‘You see, I—I was checking through some papers yesterday evening, and realized I had made a terrible mistake—’
‘Did you indeed …?’ he interjected, standing up to move around the desk with surprising speed for such a large man. ‘Exactly when yesterday did you say you had realized your error?’
Even wearing two-inch heels Mattie had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. Not that she was sure she wanted to! He was altogether too close, and she really had no idea what his mood was. Although she was sure it couldn’t be pleasant, not after the havoc she had probably wreaked in his personal life!
‘I told you, it was yesterday evening. I really am sorry—’
‘Mattie, interesting as this conversation undoubtedly is, could we possibly continue it over dinner this evening?’ he cut in after a brief glance at his wrist-watch. ‘You see, I have a luncheon appointment in two minutes, and—’
‘No, we could not continue this conversation—or indeed, anything!—over dinner!’ Mattie burst out disbelievingly. In fact, she couldn’t believe he had actually asked her that!
He raised dark brows. ‘No?’
‘No!’ she snapped incredulously.
‘Why not?’ he pressed.
Her eyes blazed deeply blue. ‘For one thing—you’re a married man!’ she reminded him forcefully. ‘For another—you already have at least four girlfriends that I know of!’
There, she had said it. So much for coming here and claiming the mix-up with the cards had been a simple mistake—which was the excuse she had come up with during her wakeful hours early this morning. But what else was she supposed to do when the man was now actually daring to try and add her to his list of women?
She glanced up at him, quickly looking away again as she realized he was standing much too close to her. With the desk behind her, and Jack Beauchamp standing in front of her, she had no means of escape if he should—
‘Jack …? Am I too early for our luncheon appointment?’
Mattie gave a nervous start at the sound of an intrusive female voice, at the same time acknowledging that she and Jack Beauchamp must have been so intent on each other that neither of them had heard the other woman open the door and enter the room.
Jack Beauchamp’s eyes narrowed on Mattie briefly before he stepped away from her, a smile curving his lips now as he turned to greet the other woman. ‘Not at all,’ he assured her smoothly. ‘Mattie and I were just finalizing our arrangements for this evening,’ he added with a pointed glare in Mattie’s direction.
A glare Mattie was totally immune to, her whole attention focused on the tall woman who had just entered the office.
She was beautiful, her luxuriously thick hair falling in ebony waves to just below her slender shoulders, blue eyes sparkling with health and vitality, make-up understated on the ravishing beauty of her face. The fitted blue dress she wore—expensive by its cut—was the exact same colour as her eyes, her legs looked long and silky, her feet small and delicate in strappy black sandals.
‘Mattie.’ Jack Beauchamp took a firm hold of her arm as he pulled her forward to stand at his side. ‘Let me introduce you to my sister, Alexandra.’
His sister? Did he really expect her to believe that?
The other woman gave a questioning look in Jack Beauchamp’s direction before turning to Mattie. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mattie.’ She smiled warmly, her voice huskily attractive. ‘I do apologize if I’m interrupting,’ she added. ‘Claire wasn’t in her office outside, so I let myself in.’
‘Not at all,’ Mattie assured her nervously, wishing Jack Beauchamp would let go of her arm. It wasn’t that he was particularly hurting her, she just wasn’t comfortable with the tingling sensation that was moving from her wrist to her shoulder! ‘I was just leaving, anyway,’ she excused, deliberately stepping away from Jack Beauchamp so that he had no choice but to release her arm.
Except that he didn’t, his dark gaze challenging on hers as he maintained his grip. ‘We haven’t settled the details for this evening,’ he insisted. ‘You said dinner is out, so how about I pick you up about nine o’clock and we go and have a quiet drink together somewhere?’
How about they just forgot about the whole thing?
Except, Mattie realised Jack Beauchamp didn’t intend letting her off that easily.
‘Okay,’ she finally agreed reluctantly. ‘If that’s what you want to do.’
‘It’s what I want to do, Mattie,’ he echoed decisively.
‘Fine,’ she snapped, looking down to where his hand still clasped her arm, taking a relieved step back as he finally released her. ‘Until nine o’clock this evening, then,’ she muttered.
He gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
Well, Mattie certainly wasn’t!
What was he going to say to her? More to the point, what was he going to do about her act of sabotage on his personal life?

CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU changed those name cards over on purpose, didn’t you?’
Mattie, in the process of taking a sip of her glass of white wine, swallowed too hastily, the liquid going down the wrong way and choking her.
She coughed and spluttered, the wine instantly going up her nose as well as down her windpipe, her eyes and nose watering as she tried to control herself.
‘Here.’ Jack reached over and gave her a helpful slap on the back as he sat beside her in the corner booth of the country pub he had driven them to.
Almost knocking Mattie off the seat in the process!
Had there been any need to slap her on the back quite that hard? Mattie didn’t think so. Besides, it hadn’t helped—she was still coughing and spluttering, several people in the bar turning to give her sympathetic looks.
Which was more than Jack Beauchamp was doing—amusement seemed to be the main emotion in those laughing brown eyes and the curve of his mouth!
‘Blow your nose,’ Jack instructed dryly, handing her a snowy white handkerchief.
Mattie did so. Noisily. And it did help. Only her eyes were watering now.
‘Feeling better?’ Jack enquired as she mopped up the moisture from her face and eyes, at the same time sure that her mascara must have run down her cheeks.
Yes, it had, she realized with an inward groan as she looked down at what had once been a pristine white handkerchief, but which was now streaked with brown stains. Oh, well, the way she looked was the least of her problems!
And how could she possibly be feeling better after what he had just said to her? He knew she had swapped those cards over on purpose!
‘Thank you,’ she said tautly, crushing the handkerchief in the palm of her hand; she doubted he would want it back now that she had blown her nose on it!
Jack Beauchamp had arrived at the bungalow promptly at nine o’clock this evening. Which was just as well—because Mattie had been standing at the end of the driveway waiting for him. She didn’t want him any nearer in case he alerted her mother as to whom she was spending the evening with.
She had assured her mother, when she’d arrived home from work a few hours earlier, that the situation with Jack Beauchamp had been settled, that he accepted her explanation of a mistake being made, that he wouldn’t be cancelling his booking for Harry this weekend. All she had to do then was convince Jack Beauchamp of that!
His opening comment had seemed to put an end to that particular hope.
She cleared her throat noisily before speaking. ‘I did try to explain to you earlier—’ before his luncheon date arrived! ‘—that I had realized my mistake over the weekend—’
‘You did,’ he conceded dryly. ‘But your subsequent remark about a wife and four girlfriends seemed to imply something else.’ He quirked dark brows over mocking eyes.
Mattie winced as she clearly remembered making that particular comment in his office earlier.
‘Don’t you think?’ he prompted mildly before sipping the half-pint of beer he had ordered for his own drink.
Perhaps if she had thought more before delivering those flowers on Saturday— But that was her problem: she didn’t think, just acted!
She wished she didn’t have to think now, either! Because the more she thought about what she had done, the more she realized just how completely unprofessionally she had behaved. It was none of her business if one of her clients had a dozen girlfriends who had no idea of each other’s existence; she was just paid to deliver flowers, not make moral judgements. Or act on the latter!
‘You see, Mattie.’ Jack spoke pleasantly as he turned more fully towards her.
To the onlooker it would have seemed as if he just wanted to get closer to her. But Mattie easily recognized he had trapped her more securely in her corner seat. Not that she was thinking of running anyway. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she would get very far; Jack Beauchamp might spend his weekdays sitting behind a desk, but he had the physique of a sportsman.
‘I’ve also been thinking about the conversation I overheard you having with your mother when I arrived at the boarding-kennels yesterday afternoon,’ he continued determinedly. ‘I believe you were discussing a womaniser and a greedy pig …? The greedy pig in question apparently having four girlfriends?’
Mattie’s heart sank even more. It must be in her shoes by now!
She moistened dry lips—surprisingly so, considering all the wine she had spluttered over herself seconds ago!
It didn’t help that the damned man looked so attractive. She had deliberately dressed casually herself, in faded denims and a white tee shirt with ‘Sexy’ printed on the front, in the hope of playing down the importance of this meeting. But Jack Beauchamp was dressed just as casually, also in faded denims, his own rugby-style top just making him look more athletic. In fact, he should be the one wearing a tee shirt that said ‘Sexy’—as a warning to women to beware!
And the last thing she should be thinking about right now was how attractive the man was. The problem was, she just didn’t know what to say in answer to this frontal attack!
‘Oh, come on, Mattie,’ he chided. ‘You didn’t seem to have too much trouble articulating your feelings yesterday.’
‘Or tonight, either!’ she snapped, stung into replying now. ‘Okay, so that was you I was discussing with my mother yesterday, but that doesn’t mean—doesn’t mean—’
‘Yes?’ he pushed.
She glared at him. ‘I made a mistake, okay?’ she bit out at him resentfully. ‘Everyone makes mistakes occasionally.’ Even you, her tone implied.
‘So they do,’ he acknowledged in that too-mild voice. ‘But which mistake of yours are we referring to?’
This was actually a really nice pub, out in the country, with an olde-worlde atmosphere that seemed natural rather than contrived. There was a very attractive man sitting at her side and in other circumstances Mattie would have enjoyed herself. In other circumstances …
‘Look, I was the one who came to see you this morning, with the intention of apologizing for my mistake, and—and—’
‘Yes?’ Jack prompted as she broke off to look at him quizzically.
‘What do you mean, which mistake of mine?’ Mattie frowned.
‘Ah.’ He gave a humourless smile. ‘So you’ve finally realized that you may have made more than one.’
The only one that she could see was in daring to challenge this man—which, she freely admitted, was definitely a mistake! But Jack seemed to be implying she had got something else wrong …?
‘You mentioned your family yesterday,’ she began again slowly. ‘I assumed you meant a wife and children …?’
‘No wife. No children,’ he told her evenly. ‘Parents. And several siblings. One of which you met earlier today.’
Mattie looked sceptical. ‘And they are the family you’re going away with to Paris this weekend?’ He couldn’t really expect her to believe that explanation! Paris was a place for lovers, not for a man in his early thirties to visit with his parents and siblings!
He nodded, totally unconcerned by her obvious scepticism. ‘My youngest sister—Alexandra; you met her earlier,’ he reminded her.
‘Yes …’ Mattie agreed, still not convinced about that particular relationship.
He shrugged. ‘She recently became engaged, and decided that she would like to have her celebration dinner at the restaurant on the Eiffel Tower.’
Mattie didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of this explanation, or to feel envious that someone could actually decide such a thing—and then it happened! Whichever way, it sounded highly unlikely to her.
‘So you don’t have a wife,’ Mattie accepted; maybe she could concede she might have been wrong about that.
‘Or four girlfriends,’ Jack Beauchamp told her firmly.
‘Well … probably not any more!’ Mattie couldn’t hold back her grin.
He still wasn’t sporting any visible signs of having recently encountered a woman—or indeed four women!—scorned, but for a man with a number of girlfriends he didn’t seem to have had any problem finding himself free to see her this evening!
‘Do you know what I think, Mattie?’ he spoke consideringly. ‘I think your father should have smacked your bottom more when you were a little girl!’ he continued, before she had time to think of a wisecrack answer concerning her lack of interest in what he thought about anything.
Her smile faded. ‘That might have been a little difficult—you see, he died when I was three,’ she explained evenly.
She had only vague memories of her father, a tall man who had used to throw her over his shoulder and carry her up to bed, a man who had always been laughing. She remembered her mother had always seemed to be laughing in those days too …
‘I’m sorry.’ Jack Beauchamp’s quiet apology brought her back to an awareness of where she was—and exactly who she was with. ‘That must have been difficult for you.’
‘More so for my mother, I would think,’ Mattie replied, giving a dismissive shrug to hide the pain talk of her father’s premature death could still cause her.
‘Yes …’
Mattie waited for Jack to carry on with his earlier rebuke, and when he didn’t she turned to look at him. He was obviously deep in thought, although his enigmatic expression made it impossible to even guess what those thoughts were about. As long as he wasn’t feeling sorry for her because of her father—
‘You see, Mattie,’ he suddenly rasped, ‘your recent—behaviour, has put me in something of an awkward position.’
‘Oh, yes?’ she prompted warily—she didn’t need to ask which part of her behaviour he was talking about; Jack Beauchamp no more believed her story about it being a genuine mistake, that she had mixed up the cards that had accompanied his bouquets, than she did his claim about those four women not being his girlfriends!
‘Oh, yes,’ he confirmed dryly, turning to look at her once again. ‘Of course, there is a way round it …’
Why did Mattie suddenly have the feeling that she wasn’t going to like his way round his particular problem?
Although there was no way she could possibly have been prepared for his next question!
‘Do you have a valid passport?’
‘Do I have a what?’ she gasped incredulously.
‘A valid passport,’ Jack repeated calmly.
‘Well, yes, I— What do you want to know that for?’ she demanded suspiciously; she had acquired a passport for the first time the previous year, when she and her mother had managed to get away, for the first time in years, to Greece for a week’s holiday. But what business was it of Jack Beauchamp’s whether or not she had a valid passport?
‘I’ve explained to you that I’m going to Paris this weekend,’ he reminded her.
‘For your sister’s engagement dinner …’ she recalled slowly.
‘Well, I wasn’t going alone,’ he told her with an air of regret.
‘You mentioned your parents and siblings are all going to be there too—’
‘No, Mattie,’ Jack Beauchamp drawled mockingly. ‘I meant I wasn’t going alone. And if you have a valid passport, I’m still not.’
‘I don’t— Ah.’ She winced as his meaning suddenly became clear. Obviously one of those four women he had sent flowers to over the weekend had been going to Paris with him.
Had been … Because after what Mattie had done with the cards she doubted any of those women were still speaking to him, let alone going to Paris for any weekend with him! Which meant it had to have been the unmarried one. Now which one had she been, Sally or Sandy or—
Did it really matter? Mattie instantly chided herself; Jack Beauchamp seemed to be telling her, with his question concerning her own passport, that, now she had put paid to his original companion for his weekend, she would have to accompany him instead!
‘I don’t think so, Mr Beauchamp,’ she told him loftily. Exactly what did he think she was? She sold and delivered flowers; she did not hire herself out for weekends in Paris!
‘You don’t?’
‘No, I don’t!’ Her voice rose indignantly, eyes flashing deeply blue.
‘Paris in the spring,’ he teased. ‘What could be more romantic?’
Mattie frowned at him reprovingly for his levity. ‘Okay, so I accept I’ve rather messed things up for you this weekend, but I’m sure that with your looks and apparent charm—’ after all, he had to have something to have acquired four girlfriends in the first place! ‘—you can easily find another woman to take to Paris!’ Most women she knew would jump at the chance—and not just because there was a trip to the French capital on offer.
Much as she hated to admit it, Jack Beauchamp was extremely attractive to look at, and he did possess a lazy charm that made her feel totally feminine. Not that she was in the least charmed, she told herself firmly; the man was just an accomplished flirt.
‘A bit short notice, don’t you think?’ he parried.
Mattie shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage to think of something.’
‘So you think I have looks and charm?’ he enquired.
‘As far as some women are concerned!’ she retorted. Heaven forbid he should gain the impression she found him the least bit attractive.
Even if she did …
It would be very hard for any woman not to acknowledge that he was extremely good-looking. It was just his having four girlfriends at the same time that was so unattractive. Just! As far as Mattie was concerned, especially after the Richard incident, it was totally unacceptable.
‘But you’ve very effectively put an end to all that, Mattie,’ he reminded her.
So her plan had worked, after all!
She shook her head. ‘That doesn’t mean I have to take their place as an act of appeasement!’
He chuckled softly. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you should sleep with me while we’re in Paris, Mattie—’
‘I told you, I am not going to Paris with you!’ she told him with firm finality.
While, at the same time, her imagination ran amuck with visions of Jack Beauchamp and herself, locked languidly together, their naked bodies passionately entwined as they kissed and caressed each other …
‘I doubt we would do much sleeping if we were to share a bedroom anywhere, Mattie,’ Jack’s murmured comment interrupted her intimate imaginings.
Mattie looked at him sharply, her blush deepening to embarrassment as she wondered if some of her inner thoughts had been visible on her face. She sincerely hoped not!
She swallowed hard, avoiding that warm dark gaze now. ‘I don’t see what the problem is with your going to Paris on your own,’ she dismissed scathingly. ‘Surely you can do without some adoring female in tow for one weekend?’ she derided. ‘Besides, you said it’s all going to be your family there, anyway—’
‘And Thom’s. My sister’s fiancé,’ he explained at Mattie’s puzzled glance. ‘Thom’s parents will be there. Also his sister.’
Mattie hesitated. The way he made that last statement, the deliberateness of his tone, seemed to imply—
‘Not another one!’ she sighed disgustedly; really, did the man have no scruples whatsoever? On the evidence she had seen so far, obviously not!
‘Not as far as I’m concerned, no,’ he told her dryly.
Mattie’s gaze narrowed at his claim. ‘But Thom’s sister has other ideas …?’
Jack nodded. ‘It’s completely unreciprocated, Mattie, I can assure you,’ he told her wryly. ‘But as Sharon is Thom’s sister, it’s rather an awkward situation. Short of actually telling her I’m just not interested, which would make things very difficult for everyone—I thought that if I turned up in Paris with a female in tow—’
‘Thanks very much!’ Mattie protested.
‘You weren’t my original choice,’ he reminded her.
No, either Sally, Cally, Sandy, or Tina had been that. But as Mattie, with one of her impulsive actions, had put paid to any of them going to Paris with him—!
‘What’s wrong with this Sharon?’ she prompted interestedly.
‘I’m too much of a gentleman to say,’ Jack returned smoothly.
Just as well she wasn’t taking another sip of her wine when he said that! Gentleman, indeed!
Mattie shook her head. ‘I have a business to run, I can’t just disappear off to Paris for three days—’
‘Four,’ Jack corrected evenly. ‘And Friday and Monday are bank holidays,’ he reasoned. ‘So it will only be for the Saturday. I’m sure you must take time off; who looks after the shop then?’
She didn’t very often take holidays, but when she did she always called on her best friend Sam from their university days. Sam was married with a young baby now, but she loved to keep her hand in and work in the shop if she had the chance. Except Mattie really didn’t want to take this particular holiday!
‘It doesn’t matter how many days it is—I’m not going!’ Mattie repeated firmly.
‘No?’ He raised dark brows.
Mattie took a desperate swallow of her wine, managing to avoid choking herself this time, although the warmth of the alcohol did nothing to fill the cold hollow she could feel in the pit of her stomach.
Her deliberate act—an act Jack Beauchamp knew to be deliberate!—in changing those cards on the flowers he’d sent to the four women in his life had been a really stupid, unprofessional thing to do. Something else Jack Beauchamp was well aware of. As he was also aware he could make serious professional trouble for her if he chose to do so …
Blackmail. The man was using blackmail on her. A crime as serious—if not more so—than the one she had committed.
But that was the important thing here—the one she had committed …
Deliberately. Not cold-bloodedly. She had been too indignant, on behalf of those four unsuspecting women—as well as for herself, she admitted now—for it ever to be called that! But she had definitely acted with malice aforethought.
But that surely wasn’t punishable, courtesy of a weekend in Paris with this man—
What was she saying? A weekend in Paris with Jack Beauchamp wasn’t a punishment. At least, not one that any sane woman would see as punishment … The man was gorgeous, charming, so sexy he made her toes curl to look at him. Punishment! Most women would leap at the chance to go to Paris with him for the weekend.
Even her, if she were honest with herself …
She avoided his teasing gaze, moistening dry lips. ‘What would I tell my mother?’ Oh, Mattie, she inwardly chided; she knew she wasn’t in the least sophisticated, but she could at least try to act as if she were. What would her mother say, indeed!
Jack seemed to give the question serious thought, surprisingly no mockery in his expression as he did so. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that your mother doesn’t know I’m the greedy pig you were talking about yesterday?’ he finally responded.
Once again Mattie couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Er—’
‘She knows,’ he accepted economically. ‘Well, how about telling her the truth about this trip to Paris, then?’
‘The truth?’ Mattie gasped unbelievingly. ‘You want me to tell my mother that you’re blackmailing me into accompanying you to Paris because I did a totally unprofessional thing and you could ruin me because of it?’

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