# Ice In His Veins

Carole Mortimer

Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…Surrendering to the magnate’s demands…Media magnate Jason Earle has no right to make demands, much less insist that Eden Shaw travel to England to see her long absent grandfather. After all, the old man had ignored Eden for years! As her grandfather’s emissary, Jason may be breathtakingly handsome, but that doesn’t give him power over Eden…

## Ice in His Veins. Carole Mortimer


www.millsandboon.co.uk

## Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

## CHAPTER ONE

EDEN knew there was something wrong as soon as she joined her mother and stepfather for drinks before dinner, knew it by the tightness about her mother’s painted mouth and the way her stepfather kept trying to soothe her down. Poor Drew, he didn’t have an easy time of it with his fiery wife.

She accepted the Martini he held out to her, smiling her gratitude as she waited for the explanation for her mother’s upset. Something was definitely wrong with her; Eden had never seen her so upset.

‘Where were you all afternoon?’ her mother demanded to know.

‘I was at Cheryl’s playing records,’ she replied dazedly. ‘Why?’

‘Because you had a visitor, that’s why.’

‘Anyone interesting?’ She sipped her drink.

‘Anyone interesting!’ Angela repeated shrilly. ‘Of course it was someone interesting, or I wouldn’t be in this state.’

Eden frowned at her mother’s agitation. ‘Who was it?’

‘Jason Earle!’

‘Jason Earle? But I don’t know any Jason Earle.’

‘The newspaper man,’ Drew put in before his wife exploded.

‘That Jason Earle!’ she whistled through her teeth. To say he was a newspaper man was an understatement. He was one of the most powerful men in the world, controlling a vast section of the media. ‘And you say he came here to see me?’

‘Yes! And he looked down his haughty nose at me with his steely grey eyes, ripping me to pieces at a glance.’ The ice rattled in the glass where Angela’s hand trembled with anger. ‘He was so damned arrogant!’

‘Calm down, Angela,’ Drew advised. ‘There’s no point in working yourself up about this.’

‘No point——’

‘Why on earth should he want to see me?’ Eden interrupted her mother’s tirade. ‘I don’t know the man.’

‘We haven’t seen any of them since Eden was two years old, and now David Morton has decided——’

Eden looked startled. ‘What does my grandfather have to do with Jason Earle being here?’

‘Everything!’ Angela paced the room in her agitation. ‘After eighteen years he’s decided he would like to see you again, and he’s sent that man over here to try and talk you into it. He says he’s a friend of David’s, but I’m sure he’s been going out with Isobel the last few years.’

Isobel, Eden knew, was her father’s second wife. She knew the history of her parents’ broken marriage, knew that Graham Morton had been engaged to Isobel Dean until he had met and fell in love with her mother, and that within a few weeks of meeting, her parents had married each other, much to the disgust of Graham’s father, David Morton.

David Morton had done everything in his power to break up the marriage, wanting his son to marry the daughter of his old friend Russell Dean. He had undermined Angela at every turn, ridiculed her until she could take no more and had issued her husband with an ultimatum—his father or her. He had chosen his father, and had married his former fiancée after his divorce.

Eden had been two years old at the time of the breakup, and only three when her mother had married Drew. Consequently she had always considered him to be her father, and his family her own. It seemed incredible to her that her real father’s family should suddenly take an interest in her after all this time, that her grandfather should want to actually see her.

‘Perhaps he has,’ Drew acknowledged. ‘But he’s here for David Morton, not Isobel.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ Angela scorned. ‘Isobel and I never had any time for each other. She always made it clear that she would take my husband from me the first chance she had.’

‘That’s past history now,’ Drew said quietly. ‘It’s here and now we have to concern ourselves with. He’s sent this Jason Earle to see us because he would like to meet his granddaughter.’

‘Then he should have come himself, it would have made more sense than to send a stranger,’ his wife snapped.

‘He’s an old man, Angela, well into his seventies.’

‘He would never have come himself no matter what his age,’ she said disgustedly. ‘He wanted to get rid of me so that Graham could marry Isobel, and he had no interest in us once he’d managed to get Eden and myself out of his life. Of course, he had no way of knowing that Graham and Isobel wouldn’t give him any more grandchildren,’ she added with satisfaction. ‘That Eden would be the only true relative he has since Graham died. But I won’t allow Eden to go, Drew. I won’t allow it!’

Eden frowned. ‘Won’t allow me to go where?’

‘To England, of course,’ her mother snapped irritably. ‘Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?’

‘Well, yes, but——’

Suzy, the maid, came in at that moment. ‘Mr Earle is here, Mrs Shaw,’ she informed her employer.

‘Well, show him in,’ Angela said abruptly, waiting until the girl had left the room before speaking again. ‘Now you, Drew,’ she hurriedly straightened his tie, ‘you are not to let him daunt you.’

He gave a short laugh. ‘I have no intention of letting him——’

‘You haven’t met him,’ his wife interrupted, standing back to survey him critically. She turned her attention to Eden. ‘And don’t let him force you into agreeing to anything. We have to talk this over as a family.’

Eden was curious to meet this man who had put her mother into such a fluster. It wasn’t easily done, so he must be quite something.

‘Mr Earle,’ Suzy gave a shy smile before disappearing.

Eden’s first impression was of a tall lithe man, the focal point being a pair of steely grey eyes that flickered over them all with cool disdain. He wasn’t merely handsome, that was too weak a description, he was striking, breathtakingly attractive. Eden was struck dumb by the vitality, the magnetism he emitted.

He was like no one she had ever seen before, had ever expected to meet, the black dinner suit tailored on to his powerful frame, his linen immaculate. In his mid-thirties, she guessed, with a muscular physique that showed no signs of excess flesh, a look of cynicism to his eyes, a hardness to his mouth that should have detracted from his attractiveness but only seemed to make him more so, and dark hair worn over-long but styled.

She was no longer surprised by her mother’s antagonism; after Drew’s easy going nature this forceful man must be something of a shock to her. She could see Drew was slightly overwhelmed by the other man, despite his assertion that he wouldn’t be. Thank goodness she was looking her best, intending to go to a disco later with Tim. She knew the black velvet cat-suit suited her slender curves, that it made her hair even more golden than usual, made the short cap look like spun gold as it framed her smooth cheeks, giving depth to her golden eyes and colour to her creamy skin.

The man she knew as Jason Earle shook hands with her stepfather, but for all the notice he took of her she might as well not have been in the room.

He was talking to her mother now. ‘I expected your daughter to be here,’ he said curtly.

Her mother gasped. ‘Eden——’

‘Yes—Eden,’ he said her name as if he had difficulty in getting it off his tongue. ‘I expected the child to be here.’

Child! At twenty that was something Eden didn’t consider herself to be. She stepped forward into the light, the smile freezing on her lips as those icy grey eyes swept over her with barely concealed insolence. This man might be devastatingly attractive, but his manners left a lot to be desired.

She took a deep breath, meeting that critical gaze unflinchingly. ‘I am Eden,’ she told him in a slightly husky voice, her American accent only slight as it had never been encouraged by her mother.

He looked momentarily taken aback before the cold mask was back in place. ‘You are David Morton’s granddaughter?’

He gave Eden the impression that he now expected her to deny it. ‘My name is Eden Shaw, but I believe David Morton is my grandfather,’ she told him distantly.

His irritation was obvious. ‘I expected you to be—younger.’

‘Really?’ she raised her eyebrows. ‘My grandfather probably thinks of me as a child, I was two the last time he saw me,’ she added dryly. ‘When you get older you have a way of trying to forget the passing of the years—I’m sure you know that yourself.’ She knew this last was insulting, but this man’s condescending attitude was not something she was prepared to accept.

He showed by the narrowing of those icy grey eyes that her insult had not gone unnoticed, and by the look on his face it wouldn’t go unpunished either. ‘I’m sure David knows exactly how old you are; he never forgets anything. But now that I’ve seen you for myself I feel I’ve had a wasted journey.’

‘Probably,’ she gave a nod of her head.

‘Shall we go in to dinner?’ Angela suggested tersely. ‘We can talk about this later.’

‘Unfortunately I can’t stay to dinner,’ their guest refused, not looking sorry about it at all. ‘I only came to arrange to take your daughter back to England with me on Monday. I have people to meet for dinner this evening, business acquaintances.’

‘I see,’ Angela said tightly, angered by his obvious snub. ‘Then we won’t keep you,’ she dismissed.

‘About Monday——’

‘As you’ve already realised, Mr Earle——’ Eden interrupted, also aware of his deliberate show of a desire to avoid their company. He must have known that they would assume by his dress that he would be dining with them. God, he was an arrogant swine! ‘I’m old enough to take myself to England if I had any desire to go there. But I don’t, and I have no intention of going to England on Monday or any other time. England has never appealed to me,’ she drawled insolently, ‘and even less so now. I hear one can die of the cold over there without anyone being aware of it,’ she added tauntingly, hoping her double meaning wouldn’t be lost on him.

Those cold grey eyes raked over her mercilessly, narrowed and speculative. ‘I believe the winters over here can be even more severe,’ he snapped tersely.

Eden raised one blond eyebrow. ‘Were we talking about the season…?’

There was a dangerous tension about him now, an aura of anger barely kept in check. ‘Perhaps not,’ he glanced at his wrist-watch. ‘But I don’t have the time right now to persuade you that it would be in your best interest to visit your grandfather.’

Her harsh laugh rang out. ‘If you’re talking about monetary gain, Mr Earle, you can forget it. The last thing I’ve ever needed from David Morton was money.’

His look was chilling. ‘Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to discuss this.’

‘Are you sure you can spare the time?’ she asked sweetly. ‘You appear to be rather busy,’ she added by way of explanation, although she knew he was as aware as she was that that hadn’t been her meaning at all.

His mouth tightened. ‘No, I don’t have the time.’ He appeared unworried by her gasp at his honesty. ‘So perhaps you wouldn’t mind meeting me at my hotel for lunch.’

Eden didn’t want to meet him again at all, let alone in the privacy of his hotel. ‘I don’t——’

His mouth curled contemptuously. ‘I didn’t mean in my suite,’ he mocked, ‘but in the dining-room of the hotel. I don’t think either of us has any desire to be alone with the other.’

‘I’m afraid it’s out of the question, Mr Earle,’ Angela cut in. ‘We make it a rule to always have Sunday lunch together. It’s the one English tradition I refuse to give up.’

‘I see,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Then perhaps dinner would be more convenient?’ He looked straight at Eden.

She was unnerved by the directness of that gaze. She wished her mother had invited him to lunch tomorrow, although in the circumstances it was perhaps understandable why she hadn’t ‘I—er——’

‘Would eight o’clock suit you?’ he took her hesitation for agreement to his suggestion.

‘I—Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Good,’ he nodded his satisfaction with the arrangement. ‘I’ll call for you here.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier for me to meet you at your hotel?’

‘Perhaps,’ he agreed curtly. ‘But I would prefer to call for you. People might misunderstand the situation.’

That brought a smile to Eden’s lips, her golden eyes dancing with mischief. ‘Meaning you wouldn’t like the management to think you have young girls calling for you,’ she taunted.

‘Quite,’ he acknowledged tersely.

Her grin deepened. ‘Very well, Mr Earle.’

He looked at her parents. ‘I trust you have no objection to my talking to your daughter?’

‘No——’

‘None at all,’ Angela interrupted her husband. ‘As long as you do only talk. Any decision that’s made about Eden visiting David will obviously have to be a family one.’

Jason nodded. ‘I can understand that. Now, if you will all excuse me…’

Angela rang for the maid to show him out, keeping a tight-lipped silence until she was sure he was out of earshot. ‘The nerve of the man!’ she finally burst out. ‘The sheer nerve of the man!’

Drew wordlessly handed her a drink, watching her take a large swallow of it before he thought it safe to speak. ‘Not a man to oppose,’ he remarked softly. ‘I should think he’s broken people and not given a damn what happened to them. A man who likes to be in control—at all times.’

His wife’s blue eyes flashed angrily. ‘I didn’t ask for a breakdown of the man’s character—or an assessment of his sexual prowess.’

‘Mummy!’ Eden gasped.

Drew frowned at his wife. ‘That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.’

‘I suppose not,’ she grudgingly agreed. ‘Although remembering Isobel I don’t think you would be far wrong. I shouldn’t think she has a lot to offer in that direction.—All right, all right,’ she sighed at the censure in their faces, ‘forget I said that. But you do see why he annoyed me so much when he called this afternoon.’

‘Oh definitely,’ Eden said forcibly. ‘I thought he was horrible.’

‘And you, Drew?’ his wife enquired. ‘What did you think of him?’

He seemed to consider for a moment. ‘I thought he was—interesting.’

‘Interesting!’ she scorned. ‘What sort of an answer is that?’

He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t like to pass an opinion on him. On the surface he’s everything you said he was, but underneath—who knows? Jason Earle appears to me rather like an iceberg, ninety per cent of him below the surface.’

‘You mean that arrogance was only ten per cent of him?’ gasped Eden.

Drew laughed at her expression. ‘Maybe twenty,’ he conceded.

She shivered. ‘I hate to think what the other eighty per cent is like.’

‘I doubt if anyone knows that. He didn’t seem the type to let anyone even know what he’s thinking, let alone get close to him.’

‘Oh, don’t let’s talk about him any more,’ Angela dismissed. ‘He’s already ruined my lunch today, I have no intention of letting him do the same thing with my dinner.’

Despite her mother’s dismissal of the man Eden was aware of a tension about them all as they ate their meal. She felt sure their thoughts were all running along similar lines—her grandfather’s sudden wish to see her after all these years of silence. She had forgotten she had any other family than her mother and Drew, even taking Drew’s surname for her own. She knew her real father had died when she was five years old; driving too fast on a slippery road he had driven straight into a tree and been killed instantly. As her mother had pointed out, his second marriage had produced no children, hence her grandfather’s interest in her now.

She had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity about her family in England, a sneaky longing at the back of her mind to know exactly what sort of man her grandfather was. Her father must have been very weak to have been ruled by him as he had been, pointing to her grandfather having as forcible a nature as their visitor. No wonder they were friends!

And yet her grandfather hadn’t made one enquiry about her in eighteen years, had never even bothered to ascertain whether she was alive or dead. To turn around now and ask to see her, to expect her to drop everything and rush over to England, seemed to her to be the height of arrogance. Besides, didn’t her father’s second wife still live in the same house as David Morton? And Jason Earle was the last person to send to persuade her to take that flight; everything about him had antagonised her.

No, she had already told him she wouldn’t go and she meant it. Nothing he said to her tomorrow or any other time would make any difference to her decision.

She was waiting in the lounge when Tim arrived for their date that evening, putting down the magazine she had been flicking through to move into his arms for his kiss. He was two years older than she was, and they had been dating for the last six weeks. Not very long really, but longer than most of her boy-friends lasted. Perhaps it was because she spent so much time in her stepfather’s company, but most of the boys she dated seemed childish after a while, always trying to get her into an intimate relationship and finishing with her when they realised she had no intention of sleeping with them.

Tim was different, rich, self-assured, and very sophisticated for his age. She enjoyed his company immensely, found his light lovemaking pleasant, and hoped he felt the same way about her.

She laughingly smoothed away some of her peach lipstick from his mouth. ‘Must remove the evidence,’ she teased.

Tall and athletic, tanned skin, sun-bleached blond hair and the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen, Tim was every girl’s dream. He smiled down at her, that heart-melting smile that never failed to win over the women. Even her mother fell for it, approving of him wholeheartedly.

He placed his lips on hers again. ‘Mm,’ he sighed against her parted mouth. ‘I don’t give a damn who knows I’ve been kissing you.’

Eden snuggled against him. ‘Neither do I.’

‘Where are your parents tonight?’

‘Gone to the Merricks’ for the evening.’ She moved unhurriedly out of his arms.

‘Hey,’ he teased, flicking a curling tendril of hair away from her face, ‘I’m not about to attack you because we’re alone here!’

She grinned at him, pulling on her short white linen jacket. ‘I know you aren’t.’ Their lovemaking had never gone beyond a passionate kiss and a tentative caress.

Tim frowned. ‘I’m not sure I like that, this natural assumption you have that I wouldn’t even try.’

She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘And would you?’

‘I might,’ he said slowly. ‘If I didn’t know three servants would come running at the first cry of rape.’

Eden watched him below lowered lashes. ‘I’m not about to cry rape.’

‘You aren’t?’ His blue eyes quickened with interest.

‘No,’ she opened the door. ‘I’m about to go outside to your car,’ she laughingly left the room.

Tim caught up with her outside, opening the car door for her before getting into the low sports car beside her. He turned to look at her in the darkness, the early snow lying about them outside like a white carpet. ‘You were teasing me in there, weren’t you?’

Her golden eyes challenged him as she snuggled down into her linen jacket. ‘Was I?’ she asked throatily.

He sighed, switching on the ignition to manoeuvre the car out into the steady flow of traffic. ‘Yes, you were.’

Eden looked at him closely, noting a certain tension about his mouth. ‘Are you angry with me?’

He sighed again, turning to give her a warm smile. ‘No, Eden, I’m not angry with you. But I wish you wouldn’t play with me. One of these days I’m going to take your teasing seriously.’

‘You mean…’

‘Yes, I mean! I know you’re an innocent, Eden, but I’m not. It can be quite a strain behaving like a gentleman. Not that I mind,’ he added hastily. ‘But it doesn’t help when you keep playing with me.’

‘I never realised…’ She looked at him with new eyes, not seeing him as the fun-loving partner of innocence of the past six weeks but as the young rich socialite that he was. Seeing him like this she could well imagine that there had been plenty of girls in his life who would give anything to become the wife of Tim Channing, heir to millions. It was something she had never thought about before, that showed him in a new light. And she wasn’t sure she liked it.

‘You aren’t that innocent, Eden,’ he scorned.

She blushed in the darkness, glad he couldn’t see her confusion. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said impatiently. ‘I meant I didn’t realise about—about——’

‘The girls in my past,’ he finished for her. ‘You grow up quickly in the society I mix with.’

She knew he was sophisticated for his age, had admired the way he always took control on their dates together, but it had never occurred to her that his relationships with other girls hadn’t been as innocent as their own friendship. Somehow this new knowledge frightened her, unnerved her, made her suddenly shy with him.

It made her wonder if their mutual friends thought their relationship more intimate than it actually was. Colour flooded her cheeks at the thought. She couldn’t bear for people to think such things about her, no matter how erroneous those thoughts were.

She looked down at her clenched hands. ‘I suppose so,’ she mumbled.

Tim gave her a sharp look. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

She gave him a quick nervous smile, looking hurriedly away from his probing glance. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied.

One of his hands left the steering wheel to cover the nervous movements of hers as she fidgeted with her small black evening bag. ‘I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?’ he guessed with a sigh.

Eden attempted a light laugh, flicking her head back in a careless gesture. ‘Don’t be silly, Tim. I’m not a child who doesn’t know the facts of life.’

‘No, but you are an innocent, no matter how assured you like to act. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘I’m not upset.’ Her attempt to laugh it off sounded dismal even to her own ears.

‘Shocked, then.’

‘I’m not that either,’ she lied. ‘Good heavens, Tim, this is the twentieth century, and you’re quite old enough to do what you want, with whom you want.’

‘Yes, but——’

‘Let’s drop the subject, Tim,’ she said sharply, uncertain in her own mind why she was so shocked by his disclosure. She was aware that most of her friends freely engaged in sexual relations with their boy-friends. Why should Tim be any different from them, especially with the temptations he must have had? She was being stupid, childish, all the things he accused her of being, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Where are we going tonight?’ she herself changed the subject.

‘Delanie’s. Claire will be meeting us there later. She and her date are having dinner elsewhere.’ Claire was Tim’s older sister, a hard-headed career woman who had sacrificed any idea of marriage in preference to running the popular woman’s magazine she edited. She had little time for men and Eden was surprised at her having a date this evening. Not that Claire Channing wasn’t beautiful, she was, extremely so, but her intelligence and ambition often frightened away any would-be boy-friends. Besides, no man liked to date a woman who was earning more money than they were.

‘I didn’t realise she had a boy-friend,’ Eden couldn’t hide her curiosity.

Tim grinned. ‘She doesn’t. This is an old friend, someone she’s known for years. Whenever he’s in town she drops everything to go out with him.’

He must be something to affect the supremely confident and hardened Claire in this way. Eden felt a burning curiosity about the man who could make Claire forget her job. She herself liked Claire, had tremendous respect for her, but given the same choice, a career or marriage, Eden felt sure she would choose quite differently. But then Claire was nothing like her.

‘Have I ever met him?’ she asked now.

He shook his head. ‘It must be six months since he was last here. But don’t worry, you’ll like him, most women do. Although I don’t want you to like him too much,’ he added hurriedly. ‘And don’t be bowled over by his charm.’

‘Is that likely?’

‘Oh yes.’

Eden could feel herself starting to relax, the tension starting to leave her body. She laughed huskily, back on a footing with Tim she could cope with. ‘Could I make you jealous, Tim?’ she teased.

‘All too easily. Although I wouldn’t recommend it tonight, Claire is likely to do you an injury if you attempt to steal him away from her.’

‘She likes him that much?’

‘And the rest. She would marry him tomorrow if he asked her.’

‘And will he?’ So there was someone Claire considered more important than her career!

‘Not in a million years,’ Tim said with brutal honesty.

‘Does Claire know that?’

‘Oh, sure. But where he’s concerned she isn’t too proud to accept any crumbs he cares to give her.’

‘You mean…’

Tim laughed softly at her expression. ‘Poor Eden, this is your night for shocks. Yes, I mean they’re lovers.’

‘And yet it’s six months since she last saw him?’ She was dumbfounded.

He nodded. ‘But it could be six years and she’d still go running when he snapped his fingers.’

It didn’t sound like the Claire she knew, the Claire who could handle the advances of any man with chilling hauteur. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ she asked.

‘Why should it bother me? Claire’s a big girl, she makes her own decisions.’

‘Yes, but——’

‘I’m not her keeper, Eden. If she chooses to make a fool of herself every time the guy comes to town that’s up to her. She wouldn’t thank me for interfering.’

She could well imagine she wouldn’t. ‘Perhaps not, but——’

‘Wait until you’ve met him, Eden, and see for yourself how she changes in his company. No one could fight that.’

‘You like this man, don’t you,’ she stated with certainty, noting a certain respect when he spoke of the other man.

‘Sure I like him.’ Tim parked the car, turning in his seat to look at her. ‘Have you been put off the Channing family by these blunt revelations? Has it shocked you too much?’

She was a little less sure of her feelings towards him, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him, to show her naïveté any more clearly than she already had. She smiled brightly. ‘Of course not.’

He caressed one of her creamy cheeks with long gentle fingers. ‘I’m glad about that, because I do care for you, Eden, more than for any other girl I’ve ever dated. I wouldn’t like you to think I’d frightened you off me.’

He had a little, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. ‘I’m not easily frightened,’ she said jokingly. ‘Now, shall we go in?’

Tim straightened in his seat before getting out to come round and open her car door for her. He wrapped her jacket more firmly about her by pulling the lapels close together, bending to kiss her lightly on the nose. ‘Don’t go away,’ he ordered huskily, moving to lock the car before coming back to her side, his arm about her shoulders as he held her to his side. ‘I wish Claire wasn’t joining us now, we could have ducked out and gone somewhere to be alone.’

‘With what in mind?’ Her golden eyes were guarded.

‘Now, Eden,’ he rebuked gently. ‘Haven’t I always behaved perfectly with you?’

‘Perfectly,’ she agreed.

‘And I’m not going to behave any differently now. I respect and like you too much. Okay?’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled at him shyly.

‘Mm, now forget the conversation we had in the car. I’m a nice guy, remember?’

‘I remember,’ she laughed.

And she did try to keep that thought in mind during the next hour, tried to get back on the mildly flirtatious footing they had always been on. But something had changed between them, a new awareness there that hadn’t been in their relationship before. But she hid her uncertainty with him well, joining in with his lighthearted bantering with a gaiety she hoped only she knew was forced.

His admission of experience shouldn’t have had this effect on her, she had been out with other boys who she knew had an equal experience. And yet she had been getting very fond of Tim, more than fond, and she didn’t like to think there had been other girls in his life who had shared an intimate knowledge with him.

She felt a certain amount of relief therefore when he announced the arrival of his sister and her escort. He stood up. ‘Try not to show your disapproval,’ he bent down to whisper in her ear.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t!’ she told him indignantly.

He grinned down at her. ‘I know it.’

She acknowledged his teasing with a smile before turning to look at the approaching couple. What she saw made her gasp, and her face pale. Pushing her way through the crowds of people was Tim’s sister Claire, looking breathtakingly beautiful as usual, her long sun-bleached blond hair waving glowingly down her back, her perfect face alight with pleasure, the deep red halter-necked dress she wore moulded to her slender curves.

But it wasn’t Tim’s sister who made her gasp, it was her escort. Looking arrogantly confident, his hand resting lightly on Claire’s elbow as he guided her towards their table, was Jason Earle! And by the look on his face as he recognised Eden he was no more pleased to see her here than she was him.

## CHAPTER TWO

EDEN stared at him with open-mouthed amazement. Not because he had lied when he said he had a business dinner, she couldn’t give a damn about that; she was amazed because of what Tim had said about his sister and this man. If what Tim said was true, and she had no reason to doubt it, then the fact that this man was also involved with Isobel Morton put no restrictions on him at all.

The two men were shaking hands. ‘Good to see you again, Jason.’ Tim’s pleasure in meeting the other man again was obvious.

‘Tim,’ Jason Earle nodded his greeting.

‘Let me introduce you to Eden,’ Tim said with pride. ‘Eden, this is Jason Earle. Jason, my girl-friend, Eden Shaw.’

‘Miss Shaw,’ Jason Earle’s handshake was very formal, although the mocking enquiry in those steely grey eyes was not.

‘Mr Earle,’ she returned equally formally.

Claire sat down in the chair Jason pulled out for her, smiling goodhumouredly. ‘I hope you two are going to drop this Mr and Miss bit,’ she laughed. ‘Eden and Jason would be so much more friendly.’

Eden was well aware of that, which was why she intended to continue calling him Mr Earle. She had no wish to be friendly with him now or at any other time. How could he turn up here with Claire when according to her mother he was supposed to be escorting Isobel Morton? Didn’t he care if the other woman found out about Claire? Obviously not, by his behaviour in meeting Claire openly. He was probably as sure of Isobel Morton’s feelings towards him as he was of Claire’s.

He sat between Claire and herself, very much the man in control as he ordered drinks for them all. He turned to Claire. ‘Miss Shaw and I are not friends, and so unless she asks me to I couldn’t possibly call her by her first name.’

‘Oh, don’t be so chilling, Jason,’ Claire glowed up at him, looking much younger than her thirty years. ‘Forget your stiff English manners for once.’

He smiled at her. ‘It isn’t a question of my stiff English manners,’ he told her smoothly. ‘Miss Shaw may prefer me to be formal.’ He turned to look at her, those cold grey eyes seeming to read her thoughts.

‘Eden doesn’t mind, do you, honey?’ Tim put in.

Her eyes flashed her dislike as those steely grey eyes continued to look at her. Jason Earle had deliberately put her in this position, his quiet mockery telling her he knew exactly what she had intended doing. She looked away from him with a tightening of her mouth, sipping her drink before answering. ‘No, I don’t mind,’ she said finally. ‘Why should I?’

Jason Earle bowed his head in mock acknowledgement. ‘Thank you—Eden.’

She gave him a brittle smile. ‘That’s perfectly all right—Jason.’

‘Good, that’s settled then,’ Claire settled more comfortably in her seat, her hand reaching out to entwine with Jason’s. ‘We’ve just had a lovely meal, haven’t we, darling?’

‘It was—enjoyable,’ he agreed.

Claire laughed. ‘How you English love to understate things! But perhaps it wasn’t the meal that was so enjoyable, perhaps it was the company.’

‘You flatter me, my dear.’

Eden looked away, sickened by the adoration Claire made no effort to hide. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Claire wasn’t normally such a levelheaded person, but to see her so captivated by this man was completely out of character. And Jason Earle accepted her adoration as his due, played with her emotions like a master fiddler.

Eden’s contempt for the man grew as the evening progressed, and a couple of times she had to actually bite her tongue to stop herself being openly rude to him. She stood up with a certain amount of relief when Tim once again asked her to dance.

Jason Earle stood up too. ‘Would you mind if I had this dance with Eden?’ His request was directed at Tim.

Tim raised surprised eyebrows, giving his sister a quick look. He shrugged. ‘I suppose not. Eden?’

She drew a ragged breath, her annoyance deepening at the challenge she could read in Jason Earle’s expression. ‘I have no objection,’ she accepted coolly.

He guided her to a space on the dance floor, pulling her into his arms to move slowly to the rhythm of the music. The top of her head on a level with his chin, Eden was very aware of the tangy smell of his aftershave and the less tangible smell of his body, a completely male smell that wasn’t unpleasant, in fact, the opposite.

The group on the stage was one she particularly liked, their music soft and romantic, and she had to stop herself from relaxing against the taut hardness of this man’s body, to resist the temptation to yield against the arms clasped about her waist. She had been surprised by the way he had made no effort to dance more formally, holding her lightly to him, his warm breath softly fanning the hair at her temple.

The tension between them was unmistakable and finally Eden could stand it no longer, throwing back her head to look at him. ‘Your business dinner turned out to be more enjoyable than you anticipated,’ she said sarcastically.

‘Not at all,’ he returned smoothly, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. ‘I always enjoy my dinners with Claire.’

Her mouth turned back sneeringly. ‘So Tim has been telling me.’

He smiled, a completely natural smile that made her breath catch in her throat. He really was a most attractive individual, and perhaps Claire’s infatuation with him wasn’t so difficult to accept after all. ‘I’m sure he has,’ he acknowledged softly.

Eden looked away from that smiling mouth, determined not to be affected by the charm he could display when he chose to. ‘You really had no need to lie about your dinner date being a business one,’ she told him. ‘We didn’t particularly want you to stay anyway.’

Jason laughed softly. ‘Leash your claws, little girl,’ he advised softly. ‘My dinner with Claire was exactly what I said it was—business.’

‘Oh yes?’ she scorned, her golden eyes disbelieving.

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Claire works for me.’

Her eyes widened. ‘For you?’

‘I own the magazine she runs.’

‘Oh!’ She couldn’t deny that this information had taken her by surprise, but really she ought to have made the connection herself. ‘I see. But would Isobel Morton see your—dinner in the same light?’ she enquired sweetly.

His mouth tightened into a thin line. ‘Meaning?’

‘Oh, I’m sure you know what I mean, Mr Earle.’

‘No, you tell me.’

Eden shrugged. ‘It’s public knowledge that you’re going to marry my father’s widow.’

‘Is it now?’ he queried softly.

‘Oh yes. Do you think she would approve of you seeing Claire?’

‘Do you intend telling her?’

‘Me?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘Why should I tell her, I’ve never met her and already I dislike her. She broke up my parents’ marriage, she and my grandfather. Besides, it’s nothing to do with me.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said grimly, his arms tightening painfully about her waist and so pulling her closer to the hard strength of his body. ‘I consider my private life none of your business.’

‘But you do intend marrying Isobel Morton?’ She wished he would let her go. The music had changed twice since they had come on to the dance floor and she could see Tim giving them anxious looks. And as for Claire…!

‘I may be,’ he agreed tightly.

‘Does Claire know about that?’

He raised dark eyebrows. ‘Are you by any chance threatening me?’

Eden opened wide innocent eyes. ‘Threatening you? I have no idea what you mean, Mr Earle.’

‘Oh, I think you do, Eden,’ his voice was icy. ‘I don’t react well to threats.’

Her laugh wasn’t quite as confident as she would have liked it to be. ‘I think you’ve misunderstood me, Mr Earle. I merely wondered if Claire knew you were shortly to be married.’

‘I’m well aware of what you wondered,’ he snapped. ‘And although I may have been a friend of Isobel’s for some time now there’ve been no definite wedding plans made, no matter what may or may not be public knowledge,’ he added mockingly. ‘Tell me, why didn’t you just come right out and tell Tim and Claire that you know me?’

‘Why didn’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘I took my cue from you. You didn’t seem to want them to know.’

‘I didn’t see the point, as I have no intention of going to see my grandfather. But don’t worry, Mr Earle, I won’t tell Claire about your other—friend.’

‘Claire knows about Isobel,’ he told her coldly. ‘I’ve never made her any promises concerning our own relationship.’

‘I don’t suppose you need to—the poor woman worships you,’ she said disgustedly. ‘I find it quite nauseating to watch.’

‘Then don’t,’ he advised abruptly.

‘It’s a little hard not to.’ She moved out of his arms. ‘Shall we go back to the table, Mr Earle, now that you’ve assured yourself that I don’t intend making things awkward for you?’

‘You can make things as awkward as you want, Eden, or attempt to. I don’t think Claire would be particularly bothered by anything you have to say. But I do think we should return to the table, we’ve said all we want to say to each other—for the moment.’

‘Does that mean I can be excused having dinner with you tomorrow?’

Jason’s mouth thinned angrily. ‘You make it sound as if I forced you into the arrangement.’

‘And didn’t you?’ she challenged.

‘I don’t think so,’ he met that challenge unflinchingly. ‘I think you’re under a misapprehension concerning this proposed visit to your grandfather. Quite frankly I couldn’t give a damn whether you go to England or not. I promised your grandfather that I would see you and suggest it to you, as far as I’m concerned I’ve done that.’

‘So you feel your obligation to my grandfather is fulfilled?’

‘I’m not under obligation to your grandfather! I was coming to New York on business and so I——’

‘Decided to do an old man a favour,’ she finished.

‘Yes.’ He took her arm and almost dragged her back to the table.

‘I thought you were never coming back.’ Tim leant forward to kiss her lightly on the nose as Eden sat down next to him.

She raised her face for his kiss, ignoring the mockery clearly visible in watching grey eyes. ‘Mr Earle thought it best to get all our duty dances over in one go,’ she said rudely, hitting out at the man who unnerved her with just a look.

Tim looked surprised by her outburst. ‘I——’

Eden laughed lightly at his expression. ‘Only teasing, Tim. Mr Earle and I were talking and forgot the passing of the time.’

‘Yes.’ Jason relaxed back in his chair, his arm thrown casually across Claire’s shoulders. ‘We were discussing the fact that Eden is David’s granddaughter.’

Claire frowned. ‘David Morton?’

‘Mm,’ he nodded.

‘Then she’s——’

‘Graham Morton’s child by his first marriage.’

‘I see,’ Claire said tightly.

Eden wished she did. She hadn’t for one moment thought Jason Earle would blatantly admit to them knowing each other, although perhaps she should have realised what he would do—hadn’t his eyes promised punishment earlier tonight when she had been disparaging about his age? That Claire knew who David Morton, and consequently Isobel Morton, were, was obvious, although Tim looked a little puzzled by the conversation.

‘I don’t understand.’ He looked at the two of them. ‘Did you know each other before today?’

‘Not before today, no,’ Jason answered.

‘How strange that you should meet through Tim and me,’ Claire said softly.

‘But we didn’t,’ once again Jason answered for them both. ‘I called on Eden and her parents earlier this evening.’

Claire’s blue eyes passed calculatingly over the two of them, the dreamy glow she had had all evening slowly evaporating. ‘Why didn’t you tell us that when Tim introduced you?’

Jason shrugged. ‘There was nothing to tell.’

Tim still looked puzzled. ‘I still don’t understand the relationship. I thought Drew was your father.’

‘Stepfather,’ Eden corrected him. ‘Don’t look so surprised, Tim,’ she gave a light laugh. ‘Divorce and remarriage are quite common nowadays.’

‘But I—I didn’t know. I always thought Drew…’

‘He’s the only father I’ve ever known or wanted,’ she said harshly. ‘I don’t go about broadcasting the fact that my real father was a weak man who was ruled by his own father, that he——’

‘That’s enough, Eden,’ Jason cut in. ‘It isn’t necessary to go into all the details of your parents’ breakdown of marriage.’

‘No! Because if I did that your precious Isobel might come under fire.’

‘I believe we’ve already dealt with my relationship to Isobel,’ he warned harshly.

‘Well,’ Tim broke the awkward silence, ‘this is a—a——’

‘Surprise?’ Eden finished sweetly. ‘Yes, isn’t it? Mr Earle and I were quite bowled over by the surprise of it all. He was the last person I expected to see here this evening.’ Especially with Claire Channing.

‘Let’s dance, Jason,’ Claire suggested, almost sighing her relief when he complied.

Eden studied the bottom of her glass until they were safely away from the table. The last thing she had wanted was to have an argument with Jason Earle in front of the Channings, but he had put her in an awkward position by mentioning her grandfather, forcing her into explanations she would rather not have given, to Tim or anyone else.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you knew Jason?’ Tim hissed angrily. ‘I felt a damned fool just now when he told us.’

‘How could I tell you? I didn’t know he was Claire’s mysterious lover.’

‘But later, when I introduced you,’ he insisted.

She slammed her glass down. ‘I was embarrassed, especially after what you’d told me about Claire and him.’

‘Hell, yes! I’m sorry,’ he reached for her hand, smoothing his thumb over her skin. ‘I had no idea he was almost related to you.’

Her head flicked back defiantly. ‘He isn’t,’ she snapped. ‘Isobel Morton is no relation of mine! And I hardly know Jason Earle. He just called briefly on my parents earlier.’

‘But everyone knows Jason Earle.’

‘Of him,’ she corrected. ‘Can we leave, Tim?’ She put a hand up to her temple. ‘I have a headache,’ she lied. ‘Besides, I’m not enjoying myself, not with him here.’

‘You should have explained to me earlier,’ he chided gently. ‘I know Jason is seeing Isobel Morton in England, and if you’d just told me the connection,’ he shrugged, ‘I would have understood and got you out of here.’

‘Can we leave now?’ she persisted.

‘We’ll make our excuses once they get back.’

‘They’ll probably be relieved to see me go.’ Eden attempted a smile.

The smile faded from her lips as she looked up to meet taunting grey eyes. Her mouth tightened resentfully as she met that gaze defiantly, although it was finally her gaze that dropped and turned away. There was something about Jason Earle that tied her up in knots and brought out the worst in her. But she didn’t know what it was.

Tim stood up. ‘I hope you don’t mind if we leave now,’ he said with a smile. ‘Eden has a headache.’

‘Really?’ Jason Earle obviously didn’t believe this for one minute. ‘Then perhaps we should all leave.’

‘Oh no—please,’ Eden protested sharply. ‘I don’t want to break up your evening. Tim is just going to drive me home.’

‘Oh, do let’s stay, Jason,’ Claire’s hand rested lightly on his thigh as he sat next to her. ‘We only have this evening together. I think it’s very mean of you to make a business appointment for tomorrow evening. No one works on a Sunday,’ she pouted.

Eden had looked at him sharply on hearing Claire’s words. So Jason had told her he had a business meeting tomorrow evening, had he? Now was her chance to hit back at him for his earlier disclosure. And yet one look at his face told her that was exactly what he expected her to do. Well, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction!

‘I understand you’re only here for a couple of days, Mr Earle,’ she enquired politely.

He nodded distantly. ‘I leave Monday morning.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘So soon?’

‘My business should be completed by then.’

‘But surely America has other—attractions?’

‘Possibly.’

Claire smiled up at him. ‘It holds me, doesn’t it, darling?’ she purred. Her hard blue eyes flashed to Eden. ‘I’m sure Mrs Morton would understand that I only borrow Jason occasionally.’

‘Would she?’ Eden returned softly.

‘Oh, I’m sure she would. I wouldn’t mind in her position.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you would.’ Eden didn’t like bitching with Claire. They had nothing in common, but they were usually polite to each other. It was Jason Earle again, causing unnecessary friction. ‘And I really couldn’t care whether Mrs Morton would mind or not. I don’t owe her any favours.’

‘Shall we go, honey?’ Tim lightly touched her arm.

She gave him a bright smile. Poor Tim, he thought she was going to get into another argument. ‘Yes, let’s. Goodnight, Claire, Mr Earle.’

‘Until tomorrow, Eden,’ came Jason Earle’s parting shot.

‘Goodnight,’ she repeated hurriedly, taking hold of Tim’s arm and pulling him away. She would meet Jason Earle for dinner tomorrow if only to tell him what she thought of him! He had taken malicious satisfaction in that last comment.

Tim hung back. ‘What did he mean by that?’ he demanded to know. ‘Are you seeing him tomorrow?’

She sighed. ‘Wait until we get outside, Tim.’

‘But——’

‘Outside, Tim,’ she pleaded.

He gave in reluctantly and she could see he was very annoyed. And she couldn’t blame him for feeling that way, she was angry herself.

‘Now,’ he turned to her in the warm confines of the car, ‘what did he mean?’

‘I’m having dinner with him tomorrow.’

‘With Jason?’

She couldn’t meet the accusation in his eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘But why?’ he frowned. ‘You aren’t dating him too, are you?’

‘Certainly not,’ she denied indignantly. ‘I would have thought it was obvious that I can’t stand the man. He wants to talk to me about my grandfather, try to persuade me to go and see him.’

‘I see. I just didn’t realise Drew was your stepfather.’

Eden’s mouth tightened, anger in her golden eyes. ‘As far as I’m concerned he’s my father. My real father gave up any right he had to expect anything from me when he divorced my mother and married Isobel Dean, and made no effort to see me after his remarriage.’

‘Perhaps he thought you would be better off with your mother,’ he pointed out reasonably.

‘Perhaps he did, and he was right. But that didn’t mean he had to give me up completely. The agreement was that he had access to me any time he wanted. I don’t ever remember seeing him, or my grandfather.’

‘But surely——’

‘There can be no excuse for what he did, Tim,’ she interrupted tightly. ‘And I despise my grandfather even more for the way he manipulated my father.’

‘I take it Jason is going to try and make you change your mind about seeing him.’

She shrugged. ‘He can try, although I don’t think he’ll bother. He’s already told me he’s only doing this as a favour to my grandfather.’

Tim started up the car, manoeuvring out into the traffic. ‘You have to admit this evening was quite funny in a way,’ he gave a wry chuckle.

‘I’m glad you think so!’ She tried to sound angry, but somehow the humour of the situation reached her too. ‘You should have seen his face when he saw I was your date! Although I must say he recovered from it well.’

‘He must have done, I didn’t notice anything was wrong.’

‘You wouldn’t with a man like him.’ She sobered, her dislike back in full force.

Tim gave her a searching glance. ‘Why don’t you like him? Is it because he’s going to marry Isobel Morton?’

‘If Isobel is anything like I think she is then he deserves her,’ Eden snapped. ‘But I dislike him because he’s arrogant, egotistical, superior in every way. He’s just everything I despise in a man. His relationship with your sister while he intends marrying another woman is enough to prove what sort of man he is. I’m sorry, Tim, but I just don’t like him. He’s too sure of himself and other people’s reaction to him.’

‘Including your own?’

‘My dislike doesn’t bother him, in fact, he probably enjoys it. He enjoys tormenting me, anyway,’ she grimaced.

‘Tormenting you?’ Tim repeated sharply.

‘Well, teasing me, then. Oh, let’s not talk about him any more, Tim. He depresses me.’

‘How’s your headache?’ asked Tim.

‘Gone,’ she blushed.

‘You didn’t really have one, did you?’

‘No,’ she admitted.

‘I didn’t think so.’

‘I don’t suppose they thought I had either. But if I’d stayed there with him much longer I might have resorted to actually hitting the man.’ She shrugged. ‘What does it matter, they wanted to be alone and so did we.’

Tim smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter to me. If I’m not going to see you tomorrow I’ll have to make the most of tonight.’

‘I don’t want to have dinner with him. I can’t see the point of it when I’ve already made up my mind.’

‘I don’t suppose it will hurt to listen to him.’

‘Probably not.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll get a nice dinner out of him anyway.’

Tim halted the car outside her parents’ house. ‘Can I come in for coffee?’

Eden got out on to the sidewalk. ‘You don’t normally need to be asked.’

‘Great,’ he smiled, locking the car.

Eden moved about the kitchen preparing their coffee, the staff having finished for the day. Her mother and Drew weren’t back yet, so she and Tim had the house to themselves. Tim came into the kitchen just as she was placing the pot of coffee on the tray.

‘What are you smiling at?’ she frowned her puzzlement as he stood watching her with a silly grin on his face.

He leant back against the refrigerator, his arms folded across his chest. ‘I love to see women working in the kitchen.’

‘Chauvinist!’ She carried the tray into the lounge, sitting down to pour their coffee.

‘Not at all.’ Tim accepted a cup of the steaming liquid. ‘I’ve never seen my mother or Claire in a kitchen. I find it very comforting.’

Eden sat back, tucking her legs up beneath her. ‘I don’t suppose your mother or sister have ever found it necessary to go into the kitchen, you have more servants than family in your house.’ Despite her family not being exactly in the poverty bracket themselves, Eden had been a little overwhelmed by the unpretentious show of wealth in Tim’s parents’ home.

Mrs Channing had welcomed her with all the gracious politeness that had been bred into her, but Eden had still felt out of her depth among such opulence. The Channing house was set among the rolling acres that made up their estate. Eden had felt her first sense of apprehension as Tim drove the car down the long driveway, the security of getting into the ranch-style house quite frightening.

Tim’s mother had fitted into the luxury of her background perfectly, coming as she did from an old Southern family. The silk dress was tailored to her slim figure, her grey hair perfectly coiffured, making Eden feel quite underdressed in her fitted lemon trousers and matching shirt. Although not by the flicker of an eyelid did Mrs Channing show that she approved or disapproved of her guest’s appearance.

All in all it hadn’t been a successful visit, at least as far as Eden was concerned, and it hadn’t been something she had ever wanted to repeat, despite Tim’s constant pleading. She always had an excuse ready when he suggested they visit his parents.

It had been obvious from the first who was the driving force behind the Channing money; the mild unassuming Paul Channing certainly would not have made a success of his business without the help of his forceful but charming wife.

Tim’s mother certainly had no need to enter her kitchen unless she wanted to, the nearest she came to anything domestic being to approve the menus for the day.

Tim came to sit on the sofa beside Eden, his arm about her shoulders as he snuggled her into his side. ‘I didn’t come here to talk about my mother,’ his mouth caressed her throat. ‘How would you like to make this a permanent thing?’

Her heart began to beat erratically, then she cursed herself for jumping to conclusions. He could mean any number of things by that remark—she hoped! ‘Working in the kitchen?’ she teased.

‘No, silly,’ he chuckled. ‘Will you marry me, Eden?’ he asked seriously.

Eden moved back, her worst fears realised. ‘M-marry you?’ she gasped.

‘Will you?’ He looked anxious.

‘I—well, I—I don’t know,’ A nervous laugh caught in her throat. ‘It’s a bit sudden.’ She stood up to look down at him, wishing he hadn’t just asked her to marry him.

‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘And I want to marry you. How do you feel about me?’

She wished she knew! Her uncertainty about her feelings was the reason she wished he hadn’t proposed. It had never occurred to her that he would ask her to marry him. She enjoyed his company, liked being with him, but marriage! She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

‘I like you,’ she began slowly. ‘I like you very much.’

‘Enough to marry me?’ he cut in eagerly.

‘I—I’m not sure.’

He stood up. ‘Then how much do you like me?’

‘A lot. But marriage—well, that’s something different. I have things I want to do before I settle down. I want to travel.’

‘We could travel together.’

Eden shook her head. ‘Not that sort of travel. I want to just take off for a couple of years, work my way round from place to place. Secretaries are always in demand.’

Tim frowned. ‘You’ve never talked about this before.’

She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t something that came up for discussion.’

‘And your parents, how do they feel about it?’

She smiled. ‘They’re of the opinion that travel broadens the mind.’

‘I see.’ He bit his lip, for once not the confident young man she was used to. ‘And just when do you propose to “take off”?’

He was angry, she knew he was angry. ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ she told him awkwardly.

‘But marriage is definitely not part of your plans?’

‘Well, not yet. I didn’t know you had marriage in mind, Tim,’ she added almost pleadingly.

His cheeks had an angry flush to them. ‘What the hell do you think the last six weeks have been about?’

‘Well, certainly not marriage.’

He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Believe me, if I didn’t have marriage in mind we would have finished long ago.’

‘Meaning?’ she challenged, aware that they were having their first argument—and probably their last, by the sound of it. And it had all started from a proposal of marriage!

‘Meaning I don’t go in for these “no touching” relationships,’ he snapped.

‘Oh, I see.’ She was angry too now. ‘Well, don’t let me keep you. I wouldn’t want to stop you being with someone who feels the way you do about sex.’ She turned away.

Tim grasped her shoulders, spinning her round to face him, ‘Hey, come on, Eden! That wasn’t what I meant and you know it. I was just trying to show you that you’re special to me.’

The tension left her body. ‘I know—and I’m sorry. But I’m tired, and your proposal was rather a surprise.’ That was an understatement if ever she heard one. ‘I need time to think about it.’

‘How much time?’ Tim demanded, the harshness back in his voice.

‘I don’t know. It’s not something you can decide on overnight.’

‘Most people can decide on it straight away,’ he snapped, her good-humoured companion of the last few weeks not in evidence at all.

‘Well, I can’t. Or perhaps I can. If my needing time to be sure can make you this bad-tempered I hate to think what you would have done if I’d said a straight no!’

He moved to pull on the jacket to his suit. ‘If I were you I would start your travelling right away. Go to London with Jason to visit your grandfather, see how you like being alone in a country where you know no one—but don’t expect me to be waiting for you when you get back!’

‘I won’t!’ Her eyes flashed her anger.

‘Good, because I won’t be!’ Tim slammed the door on his way out.

She couldn’t believe the scene she had just been through. Tim had always seemed so sweet, so mild-tempered. He hadn’t been mild-tempered just now, he had been absolutely furious. He had obviously been upset by her indecision, but she didn’t think her reluctance to give him a definite answer should have resulted in that display of outraged anger.

Eden looked up as the door opened again, forcing a smile to her lips as she saw her parents had returned home. For a moment she had thought Tim had come back.

‘Have a nice evening?’ she asked them.

‘Very pleasant,’ her mother replied, throwing her evening bag down into a chair. ‘We saw Tim outside. He wasn’t his usual composed self.’

‘Oh,’ she said lamely. She had hoped she needn’t tell her parents of Tim’s proposal.

‘Have you upset him in some way?’ her mother probed.

‘I may have done,’ she evaded. Her mother wholly approved of Tim and wouldn’t be pleased at her refusing to marry him.

‘Either you have or you haven’t!’ Her mother’s voice was brittle.

‘Surely that’s their business, Angela,’ Drew cut in smoothly.

‘Don’t interfere,’ his wife ordered. She looked back at Eden. ‘Have you upset him?’

Drew sighed. ‘I think I’ll go to bed if this is going to turn into one of those long girlish discussions. Don’t be too long, darling,’ he advised his wife.

‘Goodnight, Daddy.’ Eden kissed him warmly on the cheek.

‘Angela?’ he queried.

‘I’ll be up in a moment,’ she told him vaguely. ‘Now,’ she pressed her daughter once they were alone, ‘what happened?’

‘I agree with Daddy,’ she frowned. ‘What happens between Tim and me is nobody’s affair but our own.’ She sighed as she saw her mother’s agitation rise. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you. I turned down his proposal of marriage and he didn’t like it.’

Her mother gasped. ‘You turned him down?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you mad?’ her mother demanded.

Eden shook her head. ‘I don’t love him.’

Her mother gave a harsh laugh. ‘What does that have to do with it?’

‘Quite a lot, I would have thought.’

‘Then you’re a fool. He’s heir to so much money you would never have to worry about it again.’

‘I don’t worry about it now,’ Eden pointed out.

‘Only because Drew and I have never let you go without anything. Believe me, I know what it’s like,’ Angela shuddered in remembrance. ‘I don’t want the hardship for you that I had during my marriage to your father.’

‘My father wasn’t poor.’

‘He was by the time David Morton had finished with him. He threw him out of the family house, took away his job, everything. We were so poor that—well, we were poor. Your father hated that, he’d always had money. And his father knew it, he knew exactly what to do to get him back into the fold. So you think seriously before you refuse to marry someone like Tim. It isn’t easy being poor.’

‘I’ve already refused him.’

‘Then you’re a fool. Call him tomorrow and tell him you’ve changed your mind.’

‘But I haven’t.’ Nothing her mother had just told her made any difference to how she felt about Tim.

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘Does your refusal have anything to do with Jason Earle and this mad suggestion that you visit your grandfather?’

‘Of course not,’ Eden instantly denied.

‘I think it does. But you aren’t going to England to visit that old——’

‘Mummy,’ her voice was mild, effectively hiding her rising anger. ‘If I want to go to England then I shall go.’

‘We’ll see about that!’ Her mother slammed out of the room.

Eden shook her head dazedly. Now why had she said that? She had no intention of going to England to see David Morton.

## CHAPTER THREE

EDEN told Jason Earle as much when she met him for dinner the next evening. He had called for her as he said he would, leaving the proposed discussion until they had arrived at his hotel and ordered dinner.

He studied her with cool grey eyes, and she was glad she had chosen to wear her one black evening gown, its simplicity of style giving her a sophistication she felt in need of against this man. Her perfectly proportioned body was shown to advantage in the figure-hugging dress, the ribbon shoulder straps displaying a tempting amount of smooth creamy flesh, the curve of her breasts just visible. She wore little make-up, what little she did wear emphasising her huge golden eyes.

She smiled at the waiter as he placed her chilled melon before her. ‘I do mean it, Mr Earle,’ the smile left her mouth as she looked at him. ‘England holds no appeal for me whatsoever.’

‘Not even your grandfather?’

Her wine glass landed with a thud on the table, spilling some of its contents. ‘Oh, damn!’ she muttered, beginning to mop up the liquid with her napkin as it rapidly soaked into the snowy white tablecloth.

‘Leave it,’ Jason ordered tersely.

‘But it will stain.’

He shrugged. ‘So what?’

‘So—I suppose you’re right,’ she threw the napkin down on to the table, inwardly cursing her awkwardness. ‘I don’t suppose a hotel like this will worry about one stained tablecloth.’ It was the most exclusive hotel in the area, and she felt sure Jason Earle would have the best suite it had. He had been treated like royalty since their arrival here, and quite frankly Eden found it a little unnerving. ‘Not even my grandfather, Mr Earle,’ she answered his question. ‘If David Morton can be called that. He broke my parents’ marriage up and then ignored us all these years.’

‘Your father was his son.’

‘And does that automatically make me his granddaughter?’

He sat back. ‘I would have thought so.’ He watched her with narrowed eyes.

‘I don’t agree. Drew is the person who helped bring me up.’ She gave a bitter smile. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Mr Earle, when I made that remark about automatically being David Morton’s grandchild I didn’t mean there was any doubt about it. My mother was always faithful to my father, it was David Morton who forced them apart.’

‘That doesn’t mean your mother was guiltless.’

‘No, but it doesn’t point to my father being so either. I’m sure there were faults on both sides, but I can’t forget eighteen years of silence from the grandfather who’s never shown that he cared whether I was alive or dead.’

‘Not even if he’s dying?’

Eden paled at the quietly voiced question, swallowing hard. She searched his harsh features for some sign or mockery, some indication that he didn’t mean what he said—but found none. His grey eyes were as coldly chilling as usual, his mouth just as cruel. She took a deep breath. ‘And is he?’

‘Yes.’

‘But I—I don’t understand. You didn’t mention this to my mother yesterday.’

‘I think we can assume that David’s death is not of great importance to your mother—in fact, she’d probably be pleased about it.’

‘My mother isn’t like that!’ she snapped. ‘Why is he dying? I know he’s old, but—He can’t be dying!’

Jason shrugged. ‘He recently had a heart attack, the next one will probably be fatal.’

‘Oh God!’ she groaned.

‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Not very pleasant.’

Her golden eyes were shadowed. ‘How can you accept it so calmly? I thought he was a friend of yours. Doesn’t it affect you at all?’

‘Of course it affects me,’ he said impatiently. ‘But should you be reacting quite this strongly to hearing of the impending death of a man who you say means nothing to you?’

Eden turned her head away. ‘God, you’re cruel,’ she choked.

Jason stood up, pulling her to her feet to manoeuvre her out of the room with the minimum of effort. Eden looked up as he took her into one of the waiting lifts and pressed the button. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded.

‘To my suite,’ he replied abruptly, keeping a firm hold of her arm.

‘Won’t that be misconstrued?’ she taunted sarcastically, reminding him of his comment of yesterday.

‘Possibly. But that would be preferable to you causing a scene in the dining-room,’ he added.

She glared up at him, resenting his superior height at that moment. ‘I wasn’t going to cause a scene.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really!’ she said crossly. ‘Obviously what you’d just told me came as something of a shock, but——’

‘Obviously,’ he cut in dryly.

‘But it was your attitude that upset me!’

He gave her a gentle push out of the lift, moving forward to unlock the door to the suite before ushering her inside. A flick of a switch illuminated the spacious sitting-room, the impersonality of its luxury not alleviated by any of this man’s personal possessions.

He moved to the extensive array of drinks on the trolley, pouring out some amber liquid into a glass before holding it out to her. ‘Why should my attitude upset you?’

‘Because it did.’ She looked at the glass he had given her. ‘What’s this?’

‘Brandy.’

Eden wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t like brandy.’

‘I thought it might help you over your apparent shock.’

‘I’m over it.’ She put the glassful of liquid down on the table untouched.

‘Sit down,’ he invited.

‘No, thank you,’ she replied stiffly. ‘Shall we go back downstairs?’

‘No.’

‘No?’ She licked her lips nervously.

Jason shook his head. ‘I’ll ask for dinner to be sent up.’ He picked up the telephone. ‘We can talk more freely up here.’

‘That may be so, but I——’

‘I don’t have any designs on your body,’ he said impatiently.

Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘I didn’t think you had, Mr Earle.’

‘Jason—call me Jason. After all, I call you Eden.’

‘I thought that was a privilege of your age,’ she taunted.

He showed by a tautening of his mouth that he didn’t appreciate her comment, talking into the telephone as he repeated their order for dinner to be sent up here. He turned to her. ‘Let’s leave my age out of it. And you might as well sit down, you aren’t leaving yet.’

‘Aren’t I?’ she challenged.

‘No.’

She had the feeling he would keep her here by force if she didn’t comply, so she sat down, saving herself the embarrassment of physically losing against him, because she would lose, she knew that. ‘My gran—David Morton——’ she broke off in confusion.

‘Your grandfather,’ he put in softly, standing over her and making her even more nervous.

‘David Morton,’ she said pointedly. ‘Has he been ill long?’

Jason poured himself a drink before coming to sit in the chair opposite her. ‘He had the first attack about six weeks ago.’

‘I see.’ She bit her lip. It was strange how the man’s illness affected her. After all that he had done to her mother she shouldn’t have cared. And yet she did—she did!

‘It was a very bad attack,’ Jason continued. ‘And the next one could come at any time.’

‘Probably fatal, you said?’

‘That’s right.’ He crossed one leg over the other, stretching them out in front of him. ‘And he would like to see you before he dies.’

This information put her in an intolerable position. She had no wish to go to England, no desire to see her grandfather, but she wasn’t normally a vindictive person, didn’t like to deliberately hurt anyone, and this appeared to be the wish of a dying man. She had the feeling that Jason Earle knew exactly what pressure he was putting on her, the emotional blackmail that not many people would be able to refuse. His final comment was a deliberate ploy to make her feel guilty, although why she should be made to feel that way when David Morton had been the one in the wrong all these years she had no idea. But she did feel guilty—and Jason Earle knew it.

She took a deep breath. ‘Why should he want to see me?’

‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

‘Not to me. You don’t ignore a grandchild all this time and then suddenly decide to take an interest because you have no other family.’