Her eyes flashed with venom. ‘I have an appointment with a client.’
‘Cancel it.’
She looked as if she was going to argue the point but then she blew out a hiss of a breath and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.
Barely a minute later he heard her car start with a roar and then the scream of her tyres as she flew down the driveway.
He smiled and turned back to his laptop. Yep. A heap of fun.
CHAPTER SIX
JAZ HAD JUST finished with a customer who had purchased one of her hand-embroidered veils for her daughter when Jake came into the boutique. The woman smiled up at him as he politely held the door open for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve got yourself a keeper there.’ She nodded towards Jaz. ‘She’ll make a gorgeous bride. When’s the big day?’
Jake smiled one of his laidback smiles. ‘We haven’t set a date yet, have we, sweetheart?’
‘No, not yet,’ Jaz said.
‘I can’t wait to see the ring,’ the woman said. ‘I bet you’ll give her a big one.’
Jake’s dark-blue eyes glinted as they glanced at Jaz. ‘You bet I will.’
Jaz felt a tremor go through her private parts at his innuendo. Did the man have no shame? She was trying to act as cool and professional as she could and one look at her from those glittering midnight-blue eyes and she felt like she was going to melt into a sizzling pool at his feet. She wouldn’t have mentioned anything about their ‘engagement’ to the customer but it seemed there wasn’t a person in the whole of London who hadn’t heard fast-living playboy Jake Ravensdale was getting himself hitched.
The woman left with a little wave, and the door with its tinkling bell closed. Jake came towards the counter where Jaz had barricaded herself. ‘So this is your stamping ground,’ he said, glancing around at the dresses hanging on the free-standing rack. ‘How much of a profit are you turning over?’
She gave him a flinty look. ‘I don’t need you to pull apart my business.’
His one-shoulder shrug was nonchalant. ‘Just asking.’
‘You’re not just asking,’ Jaz said. ‘You’re looking for an opportunity to tell me I’m rubbish at running my business, just like you keep pointing out how rubbish I am at running my personal life.’
‘You have to admit three engagements—four, if you count ours—is a lot of bad decisions.’
She gripped the edge of the counter. ‘And I suppose you’ve never made a bad decision in the whole of your charmed life, have you?’
‘I’ve made a few.’
‘Such as?’
He looked at her for a long moment, his customary smile fading and a slight frown taking its place. ‘It was crass of me to bring those girls to my room that night. There were other ways I could’ve handled the situation.’
Jaz refused to be taken in by an admission of regret seven years too late. ‘Did you sleep with them?’
‘No.’
There was a pregnant pause.
‘Where did you go after that?’ he said. ‘I didn’t see you for the rest of the night.’
Jaz looked down at the glass-topped counter where all the garters were arranged. ‘I went back to my room.’
He reached across the counter to take one of her hands in his. ‘Look at me, Jasmine.’
She slowly brought her gaze up to his, affecting the expression of a bored teenager preparing for a stern lecture from a parent. ‘What?’
His eyes moved between each of hers as if he was searching for something hidden behind the cool screen of her gaze. She could feel the warm press of his hand against hers, his long, strong, masculine fingers entwining with hers, making her insides slip and shift. She could smell the sharp citrus of his aftershave. She could see the dark shadow of his regrowth peppered along his jaw. She could see every fine line on his mouth, the way his lips were set in a serious line—such a change from his usual teasing slant. He began to move the pad of his thumb in a stroking fashion over the back of her hand, the movements drugging her senses.
‘It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to you,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t want to make things awkward with you being such a part of the family. That and the fact you were too young to know what you were doing.’
Jaz pulled her hand away. ‘Then why lead me on as if you were serious about me? That was just plain cruel.’
He let out a deep sigh. ‘Yeah, I guess it was.’
She studied his features for a moment, wondering if this too was an act. How could she believe he was sorry for how he’d made her think he was falling in love with her? He had been so charming towards her, telling her how beautiful she was and how he couldn’t wait to get her alone. She had fallen for every lie, waiting in his room, undressing down to her underwear for him in her haste to do anything she could to please him. She had been too emotionally immature to realise he had been winding her up. She had been too enamoured with him to see his charm offensive for what it was. He had pulled her strings like a puppet master. Hating him was dead easy when he wasn’t sorry for how he’d treated her. For the last seven years she had stoked that hatred with every look or cynical lip curl he aimed her way. But if this apology were genuine she would have to let her anger and hatred go.