Banish Misfortune by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page B

small party, Jasper had assured her on their arrival. No more than fifty of their closest, most important friends. And she wouldn't even have to act as hostess. Jasper's current inamorata, an elegant but spectacularly talentless actress, would do the honors.
    Jessica had smiled, keeping her eyes averted from a steadily amused Springer. She had understood the politics of it well enough. Rickford Lincoln needed to be reminded that the Kinseys had wealthy and powerful friends, that they could entertain with not the slightest concern that the all-important merger would go through. Image was everything, and the Kinseys were adept at preserving that image. Was it only her imagination that her own had begun to crack a bit around the edges?
    She had put off making her reappearance for as long as she could. She'd given them time enough. By now Springer would probably be off on the long stretch of private beach with one of the neighbor's wives, and if fate was extraordinarily kind, so would Rickford Lincoln. Somewhere in the long quiet of the afternoon, when a nap eluded her, she had come to her decision. She would do what had to be done. She could only hope that luck would keep Lincoln far away, at least until she got a decent night's sleep and could cope with him.
    Luck wasn't with her. Heading down the almost deserted hallway, Jessica recognized his burly figure coming toward her. She contemplated wheeling around and heading back in the opposite direction, then chided herself for her cowardice. She had told Springer MacDowell she was tough enough—now was her chance to prove it.
    "There you are, Jessica," Lincoln boomed, moving in on her. "I wondered where you'd gotten to."
    Forcing herself to look at him objectively, she had to admit that he wasn't a bad-looking man. The years sat well on him, with his crowning mane of silver hair, the bushy gray eyebrows, the big, husky body that couldn't be called fat. He exuded an aura of power that should have a powerful aphrodisiac to any right-thinking young executive on the rise. She gave him that distant smile that held faint, unmistakable promises, the smile she had perfected years ago and that had kept Rickford Lincoln malleable over the bargaining table.
    He moved closer then, pressing against her slender body. He was a man who invaded other people's space, pressing against them, all the while smiling affably. He did it to intimidate people, and it usually worked quite well. Jessica's cool smile didn't waver, her feet didn't falter, and she stood her ground. "I wondered if you were trying to avoid me, Jessica," he continued plaintively.
    She raised an eyebrow artfully. "Paranoid, Mr. Lincoln? If I wanted to avoid you, I wouldn't have come. This weekend was planned for your benefit." He had been drinking Scotch, she noticed with an inward shudder of distaste. She hated Scotch drinkers.
    "But you weren't here last night," he reminded her with a trace of petulance in his voice. A petulance just slightly laced with threat.
    "I'm here tonight."
    He pressed closer then, his belly leaning into her slender frame, and one big hand caught her unresisting one. "So you are, Jessica," he said lightly, meaningfully, "I need to talk with you."
    "Of course."
    "About the merger. The contracts... There are several points that I think could use some more discussion."
    Here it comes, she thought, dropping her eyes for a moment to see his hand fondling hers in what he doubtless thought was a sensuous gesture. His hands were old, puffy, with silver hair sprinkled across the backs of his fingers. She raised her eyes back up to his and summoned her limpid smile.
    "I'm at your disposal."
    His smile broadened. "After the party. I think my room is the best choice—that way we're unlikely to be disturbed."
    She nodded, feeling curiously numb. Why should it matter? It wasn't as if she was a virgin—surely she could trade one night for a secure and powerful future. Why was she balking? It was nothing more than her