Dynasties Collection

The agony of emotion that had stabbed him when she’d embraced Matt last night had been anything but funny. “Not nice,” he said reprovingly.

Avery sounded unrepentant. “Serves you right for jumping to conclusions.”

“When you said he was up there, I thought you meant he was dead. Like my father.”

He nosed the SUV through an open gate into a field and came to a stop beside the chase vehicles. By the time he got to the passenger door, Avery was already on the ground.

“Guy—” she touched his arm “—I’m so sorry.”

Guy wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her feeling pity for him. He wanted her teasing humor back. Everyone had been pussyfooting around the family since his father’s death almost six weeks ago.

“There’s a lot to do,” he said gruffly. “And almost two dozen hungry people who have just come off the high of a lifetime to feed.”

Guy was right. It was hectic.

After the balloonists landed the pilots shepherded them together for a celebration ceremony. Avery was conscious of the wonder on the faces of the new initiates, but there was no time to watch the ceremony as Guy and members of the Jarrod Ridge catering crew whipped up a scrumptious gourmet breakfast.

Mimosas—the orange juice and champagne fizzing in tall glasses, slices of melon, eggs Benedict, and bagels with smoked salmon and cream cheese were among the delicacies spread out on the tables that had been set up and laid with white linen and gleaming silver cutlery.

“How artistic it looks.” Avery stood back to admire the effect. “I don’t know why you think the menu needs overhauling. It’s perfect.”

“Delicious, too, I hope.”

She laughed at Guy’s droll comment. “That’s a given. Food always tastes better outdoors.” “That so?”

She nodded emphatically. “Definitely so.”

“We’ll have to test that theory out sometime.”

The first of the balloonists arrived at the tables, their faces glowing with excitement and their hair windblown.

“But not now,” Guy added, as he moved to stand behind where the serving tables were set up.

A tall Canadian loaded up his plate and paused beside Avery. “Where are you sitting?”

Avery smiled at him. He’d greeted her back in the lobby. He had a friendly grin and appeared popular with the group. “I’m only—”

Before she could complete the sentence and tell him she was part of the resort’s crew, Guy spoke from behind her, “Avery is with me.”

The heavy-handed male warning was enough to make Avery see red.

Six

Avery stalked away from Guy, and found herself saying, “Is there space at your table?”

The Canadian, whose name turned out to be Todd, introduced her to his group of friends and they all started to rave about how awesome the flight had been. But Avery found it hard to concentrate.

All she was aware of was Guy’s smoldering presence at the next table.

Why did she care? He had no right to behave like a complete idiot over Todd. She and Guy weren’t even a couple, darn it. He’d been the one who’d always made sure she tendered no hopes in that direction.

She had a job to do and she would do it. She wasn’t about to let Uncle Art down. Nor was she going to put up with Guy’s arrogance.

Avery speared a piece of melon and chewed. At the back of her mind she was conscious that she wasn’t being totally fair on Guy. She’d allowed him to provoke her into saying and doing utterly stupid things—because he infuriated her.

You’re so honest in bed, he’d said on their way here, there’s none of the pretence women often play at. If only he knew.

Instead of grasping the opportunity to admit how she’d misled him about Jeff, she’d chickened out.

Maybe she was the ‘fraidy cat Guy had called her. It was impossible to explain what had driven her to imply that she’d slept with Jeff. It had been such a stupid thing to do—heck, she didn’t even understand the foolish impulse herself.

Draining the hot, aromatic coffee, she set the empty cup down on the table.

All she knew was that she’d wanted to hurt him as he’d hurt her with his belief that she was an easy little gold digger. But that was no excuse. When she’d discovered he’d never pimped her to Jeff she should have cleared up the misunderstanding then and there. Instead, she’d discovered a deep yearning for him to trust her unreservedly. When Guy had eyed her with disgust, she’d lost all sense.

And the damage had been done.

Oh, what a tangled web.

Now he had her back up with his dog-in-the-manger attitude about Todd. Again she’d instantly reacted, rebelling against his dark, thunderous glare. And proceeded to dig herself deeper into the mess she’d created.

What did Guy think she was going to do, in heaven’s name? Sleep with Todd?

The frustration and anger cut deep.

Guy didn’t trust her.

At the heart of it all, that was what hurt most. That was what made her act so perversely. Her disappointment at his lack of trust about Jeff … then Matt … and now Todd. God, she’d just told him he’d been wrong about Matt, but did he learn? No, he simply leapt to the next wild conclusion about her.

If he knew her at all, Guy would never have believed her capable of that kind of betrayal. If he’d known anything about her he would’ve found it impossible to believe. She was really quite proper in her way. Not a wild wanton at all. But he hadn’t cared to find out who she was. All he was interested in was a sexy body in his bed. Coupled with his distrust, that made her loath to tell him about her stupidity.

Yet despite her annoyance with Guy she found herself tasting the food and observing the guests and keeping mental notes about what they ate and what they pushed away.

Still annoyed an hour later, Avery escaped the ride back with Guy by hopping in one of the other resort minivans with the balloonists on the way back. But when they pulled up in the courtyard, Guy was waiting for her, his eyes still stormy.

“I’ll introduce you to Louis Leclere, the chef at Chagall’s.”

“I met him yesterday, at one of the talks I listened to,” Avery said. “He told me that you and he are old friends.”

The Frenchman had confessed that Guy had lured him to Jarrod Ridge just over a month ago.

Guy’s mouth tightened. “Let me introduce you to the resort’s head barman then.”

“Oh, I met him, too. Louis thoughtfully introduced us. In fact the three of us are meeting—” she glanced at her watch “—in thirty minutes. They’re going to show me around the cellars. I better go change into something more suitable.” She gestured to the dust on the hem of her white jeans. “Otherwise I’ll be late.”

“Avery,” Guy put a restraining hand on her arm, and glanced meaningfully at Todd who was hovering nearby, “Louis tends to have a devastating effect on women. We have a policy that staff don’t date guests—I’ve told him that already. But I wouldn’t want you to tempt him to break the rules.”

Angrily, she shook off his hand. “Well, since I’m neither a guest nor staff but an independent contractor, that shouldn’t affect me. Of course, that won’t affect me asking Louis out on a date—he’s staff, and I’ve always had a thing for French accents.”

Guy glowered.

Jerk.

Avery spent the rest of the day avoiding Guy. Until he finally cornered her late that afternoon in the Sky Lounge where she was studying the proposed drink list for the winter ski season and jotting down notes into a moleskin notebook.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did this morning about staff and guest liaisons,” he said abruptly halting beside the bar counter.

“No, you shouldn’t,” she agreed, gazing unseeingly at the list in front of her. “You should’ve trusted me to behave with professionalism.”

Her rebuke was met with silence.

“Truce?” he said at last.

He had a long way to go. Setting the list down with a snap, Avery glanced up to find that Guy’s confusion was written over every hard line on his face. “If you’re not prepared to trust me, then so long as you treat me with the respect you accord other employees and contractors we have a truce.”

Heat flared in his eyes, turning them a smoldering, smoky gray. “Impossible. I can’t treat you like I treat everyone else. We’re lovers.”

“Shh!”

Avery glanced around to see if he’d been overheard. But the nearest group, three young women and two men, were clustered around the bar counter sipping margaritas and flirting furiously, showing no interest in her and Guy.

“Not any more.”

“But we were. We will be again. Soon.”

He brushed his fingers across her cheek and she flinched away. He couldn’t help remembering how demonstrative Avery had been in New York, always ready to touch him, stroke him. With the exception of last night, all she’d seemed to have done since she came to Jarrod Ridge was back away from him.

“I don’t want people knowing we had a relationship.”

That made it sound like she had no intention of considering his suggestion that they enter a more lasting arrangement during her stay.

He drew a deep breath. He wasn’t going to accept that. They were not through yet. No woman walked out on him. “Avery, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not for you. Everyone will just think ‘what a stud', while I get the sniggers.”

“It won’t be like that.” Guy raked his hand through his hair, but the dark, shaggy strands sprang stubbornly back.

After a pause during which her blue eyes dueled with his night-gray ones, he said, “Tell you what, let’s have dinner at Chagall’s tonight.”

Avery shook her head. “Can’t you understand? I don’t want to be seen out with you, Guy.”

“We need to talk more about what you’ll be doing at Jarrod Ridge over the next few weeks.”

Avery had been dying to sample the dishes at the resort’s premier restaurant. But she got the feeling that dinner was less about setting up a professional work relationship than trying to get her back into his bed.

Why was he bothering to pursue her? It wasn’t about her agreement to step into Uncle Art’s shoes. Guy had been averse to that from the start, and he could easily contract another sommelier. Nor did she flatter herself that he wanted only her in his bed. He’d made his opinion of her clear. Finding another lover would be equally easy for a man like Guy. It had surprised her that he hadn’t already acquired a new lover, until she’d realized that his father’s death and the terms of his will had left Guy with no time to find a new girlfriend. How fortuitous for him that she’d turned up, saving him the bother.

No, the only attraction she held was the fact that she wasn’t falling over herself to get back into his bed. How galling that must be when he’d already labeled her easy and a gold digger….

With a jolt she took in Guy looking at her expectantly, no doubt waiting for her to agree to dinner—and to serve herself up as dessert.

“No thanks, not tonight. It’s been a long day, and I need a good night’s sleep. Alone,” she added pointedly.

By the tight line of his lips she knew he’d gotten the message.

“Then I won’t be seeing you for a few days,” he said. “One of the national supermarket chains is interested in stocking Go Green products, and Jeff and I are meeting with them in New York to hammer out an agreement.”

Avery forced herself not to react to the mention of Jeff-the-Jerk’s name. What would it help? It wouldn’t repair the damage she and Jeff between them had done or encourage Guy to trust her. He’d made it more than clear that his loyalty lay with Jeff, and the friendship and business relationship they shared.

All she said was, “Well, I hope your meeting is productive.”

“No reason why it shouldn’t be. Oh, and speaking of meetings,” he added, “on the afternoon I get back we’ll be having a progress briefing about the Food and Wine Gala before Blake flies out back to New York. You should be there.” Guy pointed to her notebook. “Some of the information you’ve collected will be very useful.”

By Thursday morning, Avery had convinced herself that she didn’t care if Guy’s loyalty lay with Jeff. All she wanted was a professional relationship with a man she’d been dumb enough to almost fall in love with. Her notebook clutched in her hand, she scanned the family room on the top floor of Jarrod Manor with interest. Forcing herself to ignore the impact that seeing Guy again had on her, she inspected the high beams, the woven rugs scattered over the landing, the wood finish that all combined to give a cozy, homey feel.

The Jarrods were seated around a sunken conversation pit in front of a fireplace, which in winter would give the room a warm ambience.

Blake patted the table to get everyone’s attention. The group slowly fell silent. “Gavin … Trevor … you’re both here. Anyone missing?”

Gavin and Trevor were remarkably similar-looking in coloring and build and even mood, Avery noticed. Much more so than Blake and Guy. She compared the twins. Their dark hair and determined jawlines were the only resemblance they shared.

“Except Melissa,” said Erica from an armchair set to one side. “She was feeling off color and went home.”

“She’s been tired a lot lately,” said Christian, Erica’s fiancé, who was perched on the arm of her chair. “Perhaps she should go see a doctor.”

Guy shuffled a pile of papers. “Okay, let’s get down to business.”

Nothing could’ve more effectively made Avery realize how wrong he was for her. All he cared about was business … and sex.

Even his sister’s health was of little concern to him.

Nothing about him made him a good prospect for the husband she wanted, for the father of the family she yearned for. So why had she wasted three whole days pining after the darn man?

He didn’t want a family. Look how relieved he’d been when she’d told him there had been no consequences to their affair. If she’d had any sense she might’ve told him about the very light period she’d had and made him fret a little.

In fact, it was probably worth purchasing a pregnancy test just to make sure there’d been no slip. Not that she expected there to be a baby, but the two weeks she’d spent in Guy’s bed in New York had been over her most fertile time of the month. She’d been on the Pill then, even though she was off it now.

She doodled on the pad on front of her. A row of daisies with smiling faces. She told herself that it was for the best that she couldn’t have conceived. That she should be as happy as the daisies she’d captured on the legal pad.

After the meeting was over she’d go into town. Just to make sure.

Guy couldn’t find Avery anywhere.

He’d unexpectedly missed her in the days he’d been gone, and now she’d vanished into thin air.

Rita confirmed Avery wasn’t booked for a treatment in the spa. Nor had Louis seen her all morning—much as it galled him to ask his friend if he’d seen her. So she hadn’t been to Chagall’s. Reception said she hadn’t used her card to access her room.

He was dying to tell her about the success he’d had with Go Green. Jeff hadn’t made the meeting in the end, and Guy had been left to do all the wheeling and dealing alone. It was the first time that Jeff had let him down, and Guy knew it could only be because his partner still felt awkward about having slept with Avery. The relationship between them had become strained.

Despite Jeff’s absence, the supermarket chain had placed a large order, but there were tough deadlines and production would have to get moving. Now Guy found himself wanting to watch Avery tip her head to one side as she evaluated the progress he’d made, to hear her arguments against it. And watch her eyes widen and her head bob if she considered the opportunity as good as he did.

So where the hell was she?

Grumpily, Guy took his cell phone out from the chest pocket of his white business shirt and located her number. Three rings later her breathy voice greeted him. Instantly desire curled in his groin.

“Where are you?” he asked more brusquely than he’d intended.

“In town.”

She’d gone to town? Why? “You didn’t tell me you were going.”

“You didn’t ask.” “Why the big secret?” “It’s not a secret.”

A chill feathered along his spine at the defensive note in her voice. Avery was not being completely truthful with him. Why?

What was she hiding?

Was she meeting someone—hell, be honest—he wanted to know if she was meeting Todd. He swallowed the bile in the back of his throat. Had they become an item in his absence?

Guy suspected he was being unreasonable … he’d never reacted with this kind of unwarranted jealousy with his other girlfriends. But then he’d never experienced this degree of turmoil over any of them.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said finally.

“What about?”

Suddenly it all felt flat. This call wasn’t going the way he’d planned. “It doesn’t matter.”

“We can talk when I get back—sorry, I have to go now.”

Guy stared at his BlackBerry in disbelief. She’d killed the call. No woman ended a call until he was good and ready … it was always he who cut the woman short. In New York Avery had been openly admiring, now she barely had time for him. He didn’t like the role reversal one little bit.

But why the hell did it matter?

He didn’t want her to love him. The last thing he wanted was a needy woman—he’d made it his life’s mission to avoid them. All he wanted was sex. Good sex. No, he wanted more, he wanted great sex. The kind of sex he’d always had with Avery.

But that didn’t explain this sudden pressing need to talk to her about how the Go Green meetings had gone. Guy shook his head, confused.

The sooner he got Avery back into his bed the better. In his experience sex fixed everything.

Seven

Back in her hotel room, Avery stood in the bathroom and stared at the applicator stick.

The emotion that surged through her at the sight of the single pink line was not the relief she’d expected. Instead she felt unaccountably sad.

Her throat was tight and achy. She wanted to cry.

There’d been two tests in the box she’d driven to Aspen to buy earlier. Both had given the same result.

One pink line.

Not pregnant.

It’s for the best, she tried to convince herself. It was what Guy had wanted. What she should’ve wanted, too. If she’d had any sense.

She ought to be dancing around with delighted relief. Not staring at the second stick praying for the second pink line to appear.

Because she wanted a baby. She longed for a family.

And, damn it, she wanted Guy, too. All in the same breath. Even though she knew such pie-in-the-sky dreams were utterly impossible.

Pink. She felt downright blue.

A knock sounded on the door of her room.

Avery stuck the traitorous stick back into the box and hurried out of the bathroom.

Wrenching the door open she found Guy on the other side.

Horrors. For a moment she couldn’t marshal her thoughts. All she could think of was the telltale pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom slab, incriminating evidence of all her dashed hopes.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” she stuttered. For a wild moment she considered slamming the door in his face.

“I came to help you move your stuff.”

“Move my stuff?” She retreated into the room, and barely noticed that he’d followed.

“Didn’t Reception call? I’ve changed your room.” He frowned as he scanned it. “I didn’t know you were given a room in this wing. The view isn’t great.”

“It doesn’t matter—I spend so little time here. Frankly, I’d be grateful for a broom cupboard, I know how scarce accommodation in Aspen is.”

“Now’s not too bad, but during the ski season it’s diabolical.”

She didn’t bother to remind him she wouldn’t be here for the ski season.

He strode across the room.

“Where are you going?” she squawked, intent on distracting him before he entered the bathroom and discovered the telltale stick. She’d already told him she wasn’t pregnant, she didn’t want him doubting her.

Instead he stopped just to the left of the door to the bathroom, and threw open the wardrobe doors.

Avery’s breath whooshed out in a gust of relief.

He spoke into the wardrobe. “It shouldn’t take you long to pack up.”

“I’m not packing up.”

“If you don’t want to move into another room, you can move in with me. Because you never did give me an answer. And I’ve been very patient, I’ve given you more time than you need.”

She stared at his back, achingly conscious of the shaggy length of his hair where it brushed the collar of his T-shirt.

“I’m not moving into your quarters.”

“The view is far better from my suite upstairs.”

She wished she could see his face. “I’m sure it is. But as I just said, I’m not in my room enough for it to matter.”

He spun away from the wardrobe.

Avery caught a glimpse of tumult in the dark gray eyes, before his jaw firmed, and he moved toward her with long, swinging strides.

Hooking his arms around her shoulders, he bent his head until his forehead touched her hair.

“I want you with me,” he said into the cave of space between them.

Oh, dear heaven. How was she supposed to resist this?

If only he’d been a different kind of man …

A family man.

But he wasn’t. And she had to be strong. She had to resist.

“I’m not going to have an affair with you.” “And I’m not going to accept no for an answer.” Her breath whooshed out in frustration. “You have to accept it. You can’t force me to move in with you.”

“I can certainly use every advantage I have to persuade you.” His lips brushed hers in a light teasing kiss.

“I need some space,” she said desperately.

“Why? Just admit you want me.” He kissed her again, his mouth lingering on hers.

Unfair!

“We’re working together. Trying to keep a professional distance.” Her breath mingled with his. “We’re both going to need space, time away from each other. Otherwise we’ll drive each other crazy.” And she refused to let herself fall in love with him all over again.

“I don’t want any space between us….” He pulled her up against his body. “Almost a week has already slipped away, I want to spend every remaining minute we have together.”

He sunk his tongue into her mouth in a primitive act of possession that sent a thrill of desire along Avery’s bloodstream.

The sentiment was all well and good, but Avery knew he didn’t mean it. Not in the way that she needed him to mean it. All he was talking about was sex.

He wanted her within reach all night long.

And first thing in the morning, if it came to it.

Guy was a demanding lover. He’d take whatever she gave, without giving much of himself in return. Having her in his bed, at his convenience, didn’t mean he wanted to be close to her.

Not in any of the ways that really mattered.

Avery drew away. “No. I’m keeping my stuff in my room. This room. I’m not your lover anymore. I don’t want special treatment. I don’t want the staff, your family, thinking that I am your lover.”

His hand brushed her hair off her face, his touch so gentle her throat thickened. “I’m not going to give up until you agree.”

She was going to have to spell it out this time. So that he’d understand and never ask again. She couldn’t bear this.

“Because I’ve worked damn hard to get where I am. And I’m not having anyone denigrating my efforts by saying that I got there because I slept with one of the Almighty Jarrods.”

“That didn’t matter to you in New York.”

“Because I didn’t know you were a Jarrod then—not one of these Jarrods.” She drew a steadying breath, refusing to be provoked. “And in New York I didn’t know anyone—I was on temporary assignment. Here, at the Food and Wine Gala, there are a lot of people I know. People who respect me. People who may offer me work.”