LITMIR.BIZ

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would he seriously reconsider handing over the Lincoln Holdings account to her if she was planning to start a family? If so, he was completely outside his rights.

      But, closer to home, would she seriously consider starting a family if it meant losing the Lincoln Holdings account, which epitomised all she had ever wanted from her career, something she had been striving for long before the notion of a husband hunt had presented itself.

      But before she could open her mouth to contradict him, or berate him, or promise to give up the hunt as long as he gave her the contract, the waiter arrived with their lunch, quickly followed by Lydia.

      ‘Did you miss me?’ Lydia asked as she climbed over Holly’s lap and plopped into her own seat.

      ‘More than life itself,’ Jacob promised, shooting one final unreadable glance at Holly before tucking into his appetizer.

      Her mind reeling, Holly could do little more than pick up her spoon and eat her soup.

      Jacob stood outside Lunar and watched as Holly’s chauffeured car drove away, the icy wind whipping through his lightweight suit barely registered.

      ‘Holly. Holly. Holly,’ he whispered aloud, ‘what is spinning though that labyrinthine mind of yours?’ Holly’s uneasy expression as she’d slipped into the back of the car was branded on his mind.

      He reached into his inner jacket pocket and grabbed a stick of gum. He threw it into his mouth and chewed furiously and began to walk the five blocks back to the office.

      The day had not gone exactly as he had hoped.

      When he’d known he would be taking the lunch in Ana’s place, he had imagined Holly would be glad to see him, keen to thank him in person for the incredible opportunity he had given her. After an hour spent flirting over lunch, he would then help her into a cab, her hand resting for a few extra moments in his, tears in her eyes, thanking her lucky stars she had met him and for him having bestowed such an opportunity on her.

      Admittedly, that had been a little optimistic. But from the panic in her expression he had even worried that she was planning on reneging on the whole deal. That was the last thing he wanted. He had become used to the idea of her running a part of his show.

      So what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be thrilled with what he was offering her? For the first time in ten years, he was contemplating handing over the public face of his company. Didn’t she understand that? Understand the incredible chance he had taken?

      For her?

      As he’d watched her reactions with a studied eye at lunch she had fidgeted, blushed, and avoided direct eye contact. He knew he definitely did not repulse her as she had apparently claimed to Ben. Nevertheless, whatever she had felt that morning on the street had caused a strong reaction in her, and she’d created her husband hunt as a wall, an excuse not to face those feelings.

      Since he’d unwittingly slung her into her current predicament, maybe he was the only one who could release her. He was simply unable to give her what she wanted most. But he could supply the next best thing—the job she had always dreamed of.

      A car beeped its horn as Jacob stepped out onto the road. The street sign read ‘Don’t Walk’. But he needed to walk. He waited only a second for the car to pass, then jogged across to the other side and resumed his march, more determined than ever to find a way to make the obtuse woman appreciate that he was doing as much as he could for her.

      ‘Come on, gorgeous. Spill the beans.’ Lydia was sitting sideways in the back seat of the car, her seat belt stretched across her angled frame.

      ‘About what?’

      ‘About that whole weird and wonderful lunch, that’s what. I was all ready to impress the socks off the sister in case you were still on audition or something and then in he comes in his three piece suit, and onyx cuff-links, all sophisticated and debonair and … I have stop for a moment and just say, yummy …’

      Lydia paused to let this new assertion resonate for a moment until she seemed happy that her point had been made.

      ‘To paraphrase, in comes the supreme Mr Lincoln. Then he sits across from you and he changes; he sort of melts as the look he gives you is all adorable and schmaltzy, like he’d prefer to be sitting on your side of the table just so he can look at you up close and personal.’

      ‘Please!’ Holly interjected, her cheeks fast burning up.

      ‘I was there. I saw. And I also see you aren’t wearing your lucky suit.’

      ‘My what?’

      ‘Whenever we meet with a new client you wear the charcoal trouser suit with the white sleeveless shirt with the plunging neckline and the sexy frill. But not today. Today you’re suddenly going out of routine and wearing this dreamy new number.’

      Lydia motioned to Holly’s impeccable cream calf-length, fitted, square-necked dress.

      ‘It is neither dreamy nor new,’ Holly replied truthfully, but she knew that she had taken a great deal of care choosing what to wear to the lunch. ‘And I did not know he was going to even be there today.’

      ‘But you were going to meet his sister. And who would you more need to make a good first impression on than the sister? It all fits. The goo-goo eyes you two kept shooting at each other were so telling. So spill!’

      ‘He attended my Hidden Valley day as well as the Arty Pants evening, liked them, then offered me the job.’ Close enough anyway. ‘He’s a client, that’s it.’

      ‘Not if the divine Mr Lincoln has anything to say in the matter. You’ve got him hooked. Reel him in and be done withit.’

      Lydia was such a dreamer, looking for romance in every chance encounter any time of the day or night. She simply had no idea what sort of person Jacob Lincoln was. She had not been there the other night to see the colour drain from his face at the thought of marriage. Goo-goo eyes or no goo-goo eyes, he was a hopeless case. No strings. No complications. No way.

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      HOLLY spent Wednesday at the press junket for a new opera, which would be hitting town in the coming Spring. Thursday she managed the dressing of a debutante ball venue, which she then attended that same night. Alone. Stag. Sans date.

      What with the party looming, she told Ben, she really did not have time to concentrate on her personal project. In a couple of weeks she would be back on track, but for now all dates were suspended. Suspended indefinitely if that meant landing the Lincoln Holdings account? Perhaps. She hadn’t yet given herself the luxury of making that decision.

      So in between more imminent projects Holly and Lydia had prepared a detailed preliminary plan for Anabella’s party, and they knew it was going to be the best shindig they had ever thrown. But in order for this to be the best shindig they had ever thrown, the client had to be one hundred percent behind them and she knew she could not go any further without that surety. So last thing Friday afternoon Holly called Jacob.

      ‘Holly! I’m surprised to hear from you—pleasantly surprised, of course.’ His voice was loud and muffled as he was obviously talking on his car phone. ‘What can I do for you?’

      ‘The thing is I really do feel that I should show you our initial plans for the party. You know Anabella, and all I know is she likes pink paper. It’ll only take a few minutes, I promise.’

      ‘Sure. How about tonight?’

      Holly looked at her watch. But she had no set plans and knew she should really strike before he changed his mind. ‘Great.’

      ‘Will Lydia be tagging along or will it be just you?’

      ‘Just me, I’m afraid. Lydia’s off to try out some new dance club in the city. The stamina of that girl constantly amazes me.’

      ‘Then how about my place? I’m on my way there now.’ She could hear the smile

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