A Yuletide Seduction. Кэрол Мортимер

it was Jane’s turn to fall silent. Not because she was angry, as Gabriel Vaughan had been minutes ago—where had that anger gone…? No, she was stunned. Gabriel Vaughan was asking her for a date. Impossible. He just didn’t realise how impossible that was.

      ‘No,’ she said abruptly.

      ‘Just—no?’ he said slowly, musingly. ‘You don’t even want a little time to think about it?’

      She doubted too many women had to do that where this man was concerned; he was handsome, single, undoubtedly rich, sophisticated, witty—what more could any woman want?

      All Jane knew was that she did not want Gabriel Vaughan!

      ‘No,’ she repeated sharply.

      ‘Then I take it I was right earlier in assuming there’s someone else in your life,’ he dismissed hardly, a chill edging his tone.

      Jane frowned. When earlier in this conversation had he assumed there was already someone else in her life? They hadn’t even touched on the subject.

      ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she snapped.

      ‘It’s occurred to me, Jane, that you have an unhealthy interest—as far as Felicity goes—in Richard Warner’s affairs. And I don’t just mean his business ones!’ he added harshly.

      ‘You’re disgusting, Mr Vaughan,’ Jane told him angrily. ‘Other women’s husbands have never held any appeal for me, either!’ She deliberately threw his words to Felicity two evenings ago back in his face, then slammed down the receiver, immediately switching on the answer machine.

      She didn’t think Gabriel Vaughan was the sort of man to ring a woman back when she had angrily terminated their telephone conversation, but on the off chance that he just might she had no intention of answering that call herself.

      He had just implied she was having an affair with Richard Warner!

      How dared he?