LITMIR.BIZ

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sure of no such thing, Jaxon, so please stop treating me as if I were a child,’ she dismissed. ‘Something is seriously wrong here, and I intend to find out exactly what it is!’

      After only two days of being in close proximity to Stazy he knew better than to argue with her. Or offer her comfort. He was only too well aware that she was a woman who liked to give the outward appearance of being in control of her emotions, at least.

      ‘And how do you intend to do that …?’ he prompted softly.

      ‘By telephoning my grandfather myself, of course.’ She moved to where her handbag lay on the floor beside one of the armchairs, taking her mobile from its depths before pressing the button for one of the speed dials. ‘I’ve never been unable to talk to my grandfather—Is that you, Glynis …?’ She frowned as the call was obviously answered not by Geoffrey, as she had hoped, but probably the same woman Jaxon had spoken to earlier. ‘Yes. Yes, it is. Where—? Oh. I see. Well, do you have any idea when he will be out of the meeting?’ She shot Jaxon a frowning glance.

      Jaxon gave her privacy for the call by strolling across the room to stand in front of one of the bay windows that looked over the long driveway. The same window, he realised, where Stazy had been standing six weeks ago, and again two days ago, as she had waited for him to arrive.

      He had certainly been aware of the existence of Geoffrey and Anastasia Bromley’s granddaughter before coming here, but he had in no way been prepared for Stazy’s physical resemblance to her grandmother. Since his return to Bromley House he had become aware that that resemblance was more than skin deep; Stazy had the same confidence and self-determination that his earlier research had shown Anastasia to have possessed in spades.

      It appeared that the only way in which the two women differed was emotionally.

      Not even that self-confidence and strong outer shell were able to hide Stazy’s inner emotional vulnerability. A vulnerability that for some reason brought forth every protective instinct in Jaxon’s body.

      That was pretty laughable when Stazy had made it clear on more than one memorable occasion that he was the last person she wanted to get close to her—emotionally or otherwise!

      He turned back into the room now, as he heard her ending the call.

      ‘Everything okay?’ he prompted lightly.

      She seemed preoccupied as she slipped her mobile back into her bag before straightening. ‘My grandfather is in a meeting,’ she explained unnecessarily; Jaxon had already ascertained that much from listening to the beginning of Stazy’s telephone conversation. ‘Glynis will get him to call me back as soon as he comes out.’

      ‘And Glynis is …?’

      The frown deepened between Stazy’s delicate brows. ‘She was his personal secretary until his retirement twenty-five years ago …’

      Considering the speed with which those guards had appeared outside Bromley House following the late-night telephone call that had taken Geoffrey up to London two days ago, Jaxon would be very surprised if Geoffrey had ever fully retired.

      He gave a shrug. ‘Then we may as well go and have dinner while we wait for him to return your call.’ He held his arm out to Stazy.

      Stazy didn’t move, more than a little unsettled by everything that had happened this evening. Those extra guards and her grandfather’s unavailability. Little’s careful evasion of her questions. Her own feelings of unease at Glynis’s claim that her grandfather couldn’t speak to her because he was in a meeting. Not once in the fifteen years since Stazy’s parents had died had her grandfather ever been too busy to talk to her on the telephone. And why would Glynis be answering Geoffrey’s personal mobile at all …?

      ‘It’s probably best if you try not to let your imagination run away with you, Stazy.’

      She drew herself up determinedly as she realised Jaxon had moved to stand in front of her—so close she could see the beginnings of that dark stubble returning to the squareness of his jaw, and each individual strand of dark hair on his chest revealed by the open neck of his black silk shirt. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the lemon shampoo he had used to wash his hair, and the sandalwood soap he had showered with, all overlaid with a purely male smell that she had come to know was uniquely Jaxon. A smell that always succeeded in making Stazy feel weak at the knees …!

      Unless that was just a result of the tensions of these past few minutes?

      Who was she trying to fool with these explanation? Herself or Jaxon? If it was herself then she was failing miserably; once again she found it difficult even to breathe properly with Jaxon standing this close to her. And if it was Jaxon she was trying to convince of her uninterest, then the simple act of accepting his arm to go through to the dining room would reveal just how much she was shaking just from his close proximity.

      She nodded abruptly as she chose to ignore that proffered arm. ‘I’ll just go and tell Little we’re ready to eat now—if you would like to go through to the dining room?’

      Another moment of vulnerability firmly squashed beneath that determined self-control, Jaxon thought ruefully as he gave a brief nod, before lowering his arm and following her from the drawing room. Except Jaxon didn’t consider it a vulnerability to acknowledge concern for someone you loved as much as Stazy obviously loved her grandfather.

      ‘Sir Geoffrey is on the telephone,’ Little informed them loftily as he came in to the dining room an hour and a half later to remove their dessert plates. ‘I took the liberty of transferring the call to his study.’

      Stazy stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll go through immediately—’

      ‘It was Mr Wilder that Sir Geoffrey asked to speak with.’ The butler straightened, his gaze fixed steadily on Jaxon rather than on Stazy.

      ‘Mr Wilder?’ she repeated dazedly. ‘You must be mistaken, Little—’

      ‘Not at all,’ the butler assured her mildly. ‘I believe you telephoned Sir Geoffrey earlier this evening, sir …?’

      Jaxon had to admire the other man’s stoicism in the face of Stazy’s obvious disbelief of his having correctly relayed the message from Geoffrey Bromley. At the same time he recognised that Stazy’s reaction was completely merited; what possible reason could Geoffrey have for asking to speak to Jaxon rather than his own granddaughter? Whatever that reason was, Jaxon doubted it was anything good!

      ‘I did, yes,’ he acknowledged lightly as he placed his napkin on the table before standing up. ‘If you could just show me to Sir Geoffrey’s study …?’

      ‘Certainly, Mr Wilder.’

      ‘Jaxon!’

      His shoulders tensed as he turned slowly back to face an obviously less than happy Stazy. Justifiably so, in Jaxon’s estimation. Geoffrey had to know that his granddaughter wouldn’t just accept his asking to speak with Jaxon rather than her without comment.

      ‘I’m coming with you,’ she informed him determinedly.

      ‘I believe Sir Geoffrey wishes to speak with Mr Wilder alone,’ Little interjected—bravely, in Jaxon’s estimation.

      Stazy looked ready to verbally if not physically rip anyone who stood in the way of her talking with her grandfather to shreds. And at the moment Little was definitely attempting to do just that!

      Her eyes flashed deeply green as she turned to the butler. ‘Sir Geoffrey can wish all he likes, Little,’ she assured him firmly. ‘But I’m definitely accompanying Mr Wilder to the study! ‘

      Jaxon managed to stand back just in time as Stazy swept past him and out of the room. ‘I think that was a pretty predictable reaction, don’t you?’ he drawled ruefully to the watching butler. ‘And, on the positive side, at least I actually got to eat this time before she walked out on me!’ The food had been untouched when he had handed the picnic basket back to Little earlier.

      ‘There

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