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‘It’ll be fine,’ Jared assured the waiter when he came with the wine. ‘I’ll pour.’
The waiter left immediately and Jared filled her glass. She lifted it, but paused when she saw him put the bottle back on the table.
‘You’re not having any?’
‘I don’t drink.’
‘Is that because of your dad?’ she asked straight out.
There was a momentary tightness to his mouth but then he answered. ‘I like to have all my wits about me.’ He lifted his gaze and the irony gleamed at her. ‘But you go right ahead and relax.’
He’d avoided the reference to his father. It had made him uncomfortable—perhaps even a little angry? But Jared couldn’t constantly dig about her antecedents and not let her do the same. The fact was they knew a lot about each other—most of which each preferred the other would forget.
How many of his employees knew he’d gone without breakfast every day of his teens? That the teacher at school had given him a bag with an apple and sandwich on the sly and that he’d cleaned her car on weekends as payment? How many knew that James wasn’t his surname but his middle name—that he’d rejected his father’s name as soon as he could. She knew. And Jared knew she knew. And she was sure he hated it.
Was that the cause of the friction between them? The reminders of what they’d once been? Was his judgment of her grounded in that old imbalance—when she’d had everything and he’d had nothing? She could understand it—because with the turning of the tables, she was coming close to resenting him now.
She looked at the deep red liquid in her glass. ‘I’m not having a whole bottle of wine all to myself.’
‘No?’ Jared’s grin became positively evil and he toyed with his cutlery. ‘Maybe you’d like something stronger later—brandy perhaps?’
She’d had brandy just once in her life. And she would never, ever have it again. The scent of it turned her stomach. She fiddled with her wine glass. He was deliberately taunting her, reminding her. It wasn’t the first time he’d referred to their past encounter and the only way she could think of to stop the unsubtle comments was to take him full on. He thought he was embarrassing her? He was, but she could never be as embarrassed and humiliated as she’d been that night. Did he even know what had happened afterwards?
‘It took him a long time to cool down.’
His eyes sharpened. ‘Your grandfather?’
She nodded. ‘Why did you do it?’ Why had he betrayed her so completely?
‘You were so young. And you were hell-bent on making the biggest mistake of your life.’ His fingers ran over the blade of his knife. ‘Did you really think I’d take advantage of you like that?’
He was only a couple of years older than her. It wasn’t as if it were a couple of decades. ‘I was sixteen.’
‘In some countries that would be illegal.’
‘And in others we could have been married for two years already.’
He snorted. ‘You were too young.’
‘It wasn’t obvious you were going to be such a puritan.’ Had he any idea of the rumours that used to float around about him? About his success and prowess as a lover? Was it any wonder she’d believed that her risqué stunt would be just the thing to turn his head towards her?
‘Let you down, didn’t I, honey?’ He laughed but it wasn’t a warm sound. ‘Wasn’t all the rough rebel you wanted.’
He’d left her in all her glory—a silk and lace negligee on her grandfather’s front doorstep. He’d rung the bell so loudly that both Polly the housekeeper and Grandfather had come running. She’d been wickedly angry with him. But not as angry as he’d been with her. Her wrist had been bruised for days from the force with which he’d dragged her out of his car and up to the door. But that wasn’t ’til after…he’d taught her the lesson in his own style.
‘He did exactly what you suggested.’
‘What was that?’
How could he not remember? ‘Locked me up ’til I was old enough to know better.’
‘Did he?’
‘Eastern Bay School for Girls.’
‘How awful for you,’ he mocked. ‘A veritable prison, I imagine.’
‘In its own way, absolutely.’ Two years in the most hellish boarding school, not even on her home island, and full of the snobbiest, cattiest girls ever to have been born. Add to that a bunch of prison wardens impersonating teachers and the whole place was set for a right old party—not.
‘And did it work?’
‘Save me from myself, you mean?’
