Rules Of The Game
Penny Jordan needs no introduction as arguably the most recognisable name writing for Mills & Boon. We have celebrated her wonderful writing with a special collection, many of which for the first time in eBook format and all available right now."I'm glad we both know the score."Jay Courtland was used to playing the game of love with sophisticated women who followed the rules - no attachments, no commitments, no cheating. He was not used to the Vanessas of the world.Yet when he mistook Vanessa for her more glamorous cousin, she reluctantly continued the deception. She was twenty-two years old, had never had a lover and knew she'd never again meet a man who made her feel the way Jay could.So she prayed for a little beginner's luck and took the chance that Jay would eventually see her - and want her - for what she really was…and not as a poor substitute for Nadia.
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
âI AM sorry about having to leave you in the lurch like this Van, but I really donât have any option.â A winning smile accompanied Gavinâs apologetic statement, and Vanessa quelled her urgent desire to tell her brother that âleaving her in the lurchâ as he put it, was one of the things he seemed to have a remarkable aptitude for. Even though she was the younger by two years, since the death of their parents, Vanessa had always felt a sense of responsibility towards her brother. âYou know the sort of shots we want, donât you,â he called, as he opened the studio door, âthe modelâs already been told.â He grinned at his sister, wicked amusement dancing in his deep blue eyes. âYou can always close your eyes!â
Vanessa groaned as the door closed behind him. At times Gavin really was impossible. By rights she ought to have refused outright to help him out today, but then he had worked so hard getting the studio going, canvassing for work and building up his reputation until he was the most sought after photographer in Clarewell, but to expect her to do the photographs for this advertisement he was booked to do, simply so that he could go and hero-worship a âlocal boy made goodâ who had recently returned to Clarewell!
Stifling her irritation she busied herself in the studio, checking the carefully arranged background âsceneâ, and pulling a slight face. When Gavin had persuaded the townâs largest employer to allow him to do the photography for their latest national advertising campaign they had agreed, but had stipulated a very small budget. Hardferns like many other companies were struggling to keep their lead on their competition, pruning down all extraneous costs, hence the âbackgroundâ depicting a lush tropical scene, instead of the real thing. Their new product was a revolutionary range of menâs toilet products, including a skin-care range, and as Gavin had told her, Hardferns were very anxious to promote their new range with a tough macho image.
It was Hardferns publicity department who had suggested using a virtually nude male model while stipulating that the advertisements had to be in the âbest possible tasteâ. But it was Gavin who had dropped on her the bombshell that she was to be the photographer, and just so that he could go to the âWelcome Homeâ celebrations at the town hall to laud the arrival of Jay Courtland, local football hero turned entrepreneur, who had astounded the press recently with his announcement that he intended to return to his home town and sponsor the ailing football team which had been responsible for his ultimate rise to fame as an England player. Now, at thirty-four, Jay Courtland had long since left the gameâat least on the field, but rumour had it that he used the tactics he had developed there to assure him of a winning passage through the boardrooms he had conquered on his journey up the financial ladder. Was she the only person not to be impressed by his outwardly philanthropic gesture, Vanessa wondered sourly. Surely there were others who had drawn a parallel line between Jay Courtlandâs desire to promote his fourth division home team higher in the league, and the ailing sportswear company which was the latest of his many acquisitions. Who could tell, with Jay Courtlandâs support Clarewell might even make it as far as the Cup Final!
Suppressing her acid thoughts she freely acknowledged that they were partially motivated by Gavinâs desertion. He was the one who was supposed to be in charge of this morningâs session, and he knew how much she would dislike it. Her full lips pressed tightly together as she remembered the wicked amusement dancing in her brotherâs eyes. âTwenty-two, and still a virgin!â he had mocked her on her last birthday, and although she had wanted to deny his teasing assumption they had both known that she could not. That was the trouble about living in such a small town. Everyone knew everyone elseâs business.
She glanced towards the back of the studio, frowning as her eye was caught by the portraits hanging there. They all featured the same woman. Hair like black silk hung water-straight down past her nude shoulders, her skin possessing the soft gleam of mother of pearl. Eyes the colour and depth of gentians shone out of a perfectly oval face, her nose and lips delicately carved, nostrils curled in a way that was faintly arrogant. It was a face that was intensely beautiful, holding both sensual allure and aloofness. It was in many ways the same face that Vanessa saw each morning when she glanced into her mirror, combing her dark hair back off her face, securing it into the confining clasp that kept it out of the way as she worked. But her face was all that she had in common with the girl in those portraits, she thought grimly.
