The Deserving Mistress

Jude frowned as he saw her looking at him. ‘What did I say now?’ he prompted impatiently.

‘Nothing,’ she dismissed abruptly, deliberately turning her attention back to her food.

Although she was completely aware of the fact that he was still looking at her. If she was honest—and she usually was—she had to admit she had never been so aware of another person in her life before.

Just as she felt sorry for whoever—possibly?—might be waiting for him back at his hotel; it would be awful to be so unimportant to this man that his having dinner with a scruffy female farmer took priority. Even with the buying of this farm as the incentive.

‘I spoke to Max earlier this evening.’

May looked up at him sharply, but his bland expression was completely unenlightening. She moistened her lips before speaking, choosing her words carefully, deliberately infusing a lightness into her tone. ‘Did you tell him the two of us have met—finally?’ she couldn’t resist adding dryly.

Jude sat back, regarding her derisively. ‘Should I have done?’ he drawled.

He was doing it again—answering a question with a question.

Because he knew damn well that she would much rather Max, and consequently January, didn’t know of his presence in the area, or that he had already introduced himself to her—but especially that she was managing alone here on the farm.

January had had a pretty awful time of things at the beginning of the year, had been caught up in the sick workings of a stalker’s m

ind, May much relieved when her sister had become engaged to Max, even more pleased when he’d suggested taking her away for a few weeks’ holiday to get over the experience.

But she had no doubts that, were January to learn of Jude Marshall’s presence here, of the fact that May was alone on the farm, her sister would insist on coming back on the next available flight!

‘Well?’ she prompted impatiently.

Jude gave a rueful shake of his head as she neatly turned the tables back on him. ‘You’re right—we could go on like this all night, returning a question with a question!’

‘Not all night, no,’ May assured him scathingly. ‘Tonight I intend going to bed early, very early—and alone,’ she added so that there should be no more mistakes concerning that particular subject! ‘In fact—’ She broke off frowningly as a knock sounded on the door, shooting Jude Marshall an accusing look.

‘January would hardly knock to come into her own home,’ he easily read the accusation in that look—and the reason for it.

Which still didn’t tell her whether or not he had mentioned to Max that he had decided to come here himself as he and Will had failed to acquire the Calendar farm for him. But, then, even on this short an acquaintance, May already knew that Jude Marshall was decidedly economical in providing any sort of information about anything.

May stood up as a second knock sounded on the door. ‘We’ll talk on this subject more once I’ve dealt with my visitor,’ she warned before moving hurriedly to the door, intending to make it very clear to this man before he left this evening that January was not to be worried by the situation here.

And ‘situation’ it certainly was rapidly becoming, she decided dazedly as she opened the door to find David Melton standing on her doorstep.

Keen on amateur dramatics, May had joined the local society a couple of years ago, only to be spotted by David Melton, a renowned film director, when he’d come to visit his sister’s family for Christmas and spotted May as she’d performed in the local pantomime.

To her surprise he had offered her a part in the film he was to shoot in the summer, if the screen test he offered proved to be successful. It had. But, for very personal reasons of her own, May had decided to turn down his offer…

Which was why she had no idea what he was doing standing on her doorstep now.

Jude watched May’s face as she obviously recognised her visitor—but obviously wished that she didn’t, her expression a puzzling mixture of surprise and dismay.

He turned his narrowed gaze on the other man; probably aged forty or so, tall and slender, with short blond hair and a boyishly handsome face. Which told him precisely nothing, Jude acknowledged ruefully. The man could just be a salesman or something equally innocuous—although, from May’s reaction to seeing him, somehow Jude doubted it…

‘David,’ he heard May greet huskily.

‘I was in the area—I had to come, May,’ the man returned determinedly.

May shook her head. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she told him firmly.

‘But—’

‘You’ll find someone else,’ she assured him, an uncomfortable glance in Jude’s direction letting the other man know that she wasn’t alone.

David shot Jude an impatient glance of his own before his attention returned determinedly to May. ‘I don’t want anyone else, May,’ he told her forcefully. ‘It has to be you. You’re perfect—’