The Deserving Mistress

‘May—’ he gave an exaggerated nod of acknowledgement ‘—I’m sure that even you would admit that we haven’t always—seen eye to eye, since I arrived here?’ he derided.

‘That could be a little difficult when you’re at least eight inches taller than I am,’ she returned noncommittally, evoking the laugh from the others that she had obviously hoped for, and breaking the awkwardness of the moment in the process.

At the same time neatly getting Jude out of the tight corner—he admitted it—he had backed himself into.

‘Let’s drink another toast,’ January put in lightly, holding up her glass. ‘To a successful wedding.’

‘A successful wedding,’ Jude echoed with the others, although it was to May that he mockingly saluted his glass, knowing by the narrow-eyed look she gave him in return that she still wasn’t happy with the thought of partnering him to the wedding.

He wondered how she would react if he suggested bringing April instead…

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘DON’T let us keep you from anything, Jude,’ May prompted firmly a few minutes later, knowing she probably sounded rude, but at the same time wishing him away from here. With Jude gone, there would be no chance of April Robine’s name being mentioned… ‘I’m sure we all appreciate what a busy man you are, and Max and Will are obviously staying here tonight,’ she added lightly.

He returned her gaze challengingly for several long seconds, seemed on the brink of saying something, and then changed his mind as the tension relaxed from his shoulders. ‘I do have a couple of things to attend to when I get back to the hotel,’ he accepted softly, putting down his empty champagne glass.

She would just bet he did, May acknowledged tautly, talking to April Robine—and probably not just talking, either—being amongst them. ‘Then we really mustn’t delay you any longer, must we?’ she returned with saccharine sweetness.

It was as if there were only the two of them in the room as their gazes met—and clashed—neither of them seeming aware of the other four people present as those gazes continued to war silently.

‘Why don’t the rest of us go over and see Ginny and the twins while May and Jude say goodnight?’ January was the one to suggest brightly, putting down her own empty glass and looking at March and the other two men expectantly.

“‘Ginny and the twins”…?’ Max echoed doubtfully even as he prepared to follow her by putting down his own glass.

May smiled at him encouragingly, having taken a great liking to this often overly serious man, knowing that January’s warm impetuosity was exactly what he needed to brighten his previously rigid lifestyle.

‘It’s a female thing,’ Jude assured his friend wryly. ‘I’ll see the two of you some time tomorrow,’ he told the two men as they followed their fiancées out of the kitchen.

Leaving May alone with him. Which was the last thing she wanted. But at the same time, she recognised that it was probably necessary; she hadn’t finished saying to him earlier all that needed saying, before her sisters and their fiancés had arrived.

‘I know. I know.’ Jude held up defensive hands as she would have spoken. ‘Don’t mention David Melton, April Robine, or the film role, to either of your sisters. Did I get that right?’ he added tauntingly.

May gave the ghost of a smile. ‘You know that you did.’ She grimaced. ‘It’s just that—I don’t want—’ She broke off awkwardly, shaking her head distractedly.

She couldn’t even begin to explain, not to this man, or anyone else. All she knew was that the situation, with the arrival home of her two sisters, had suddenly become so much more complicated. So much so that she just wanted to hide herself away until the danger had passed. And that was something she just couldn’t do!

Jude stepped forward, standing very close to her now, looking down at her concernedly as he reached up to caress her cheek. ‘Have you never heard that it sometimes helps if you share a problem?’ he prompted huskily.

May gave a choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, she realised heavily. ‘Not this problem,’ she assured him softly, and certainly not with Jude, of all people. ‘They’re all so happy, aren’t they?’ She looked wistfully across towards the barn to where her sisters and their fiancés were no doubt admiring their favourite ewe and her new offspring.

Jude’s thumbtips moved beneath her jaw, raising her face so that she was looking directly at him, that grey gaze sharply probing. ‘But not you,’ he said after a few seconds. ‘May, I didn’t mean it just now about your being a pain in the—’

‘Backside?’ she finished ruefully.

‘I was going to say proverbial,’ he corrected dryly, those thumbtips lightly caressing against her jaw now.

‘Yes, you did mean it.’ May laughed huskily, wishing he would stop touching her in this way, but feeling powerless to stop him. ‘And I know that I have been.’ She nodded heavily. ‘I just—maybe it would just be better for everyone if we were to sell the farm, after all.’ She sighed agitatedly, no longer sure what was the right thing to do. For any of them.

Jude’s gaze narrowed. ‘You don’t really think that,’ he said slowly, shaking his head.

‘Hey, you’re the one that wants to buy it, remember?’ she reminded him incredulously. The last thing she had expected was an argument from Jude against her selling the farm.

‘So I am.’ His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking of,’ he added self-disgustedly.

May gave him a searching look. He had seemed different this evening, in the company of his two closest friends, not quite so much the cold-blooded businessman that he usually liked to appear.

She smiled. ‘You know, Jude, maybe you aren’t such a—’