Read Online Claiming His Wedding Night by Lee Wilkinson - Free Book Online Page B

drinking his own tea.
    In the confined space he was altogether too close, too masculine, and it was a great relief when there was a tap at the door and the steward’s voice said, ‘I’m sorry to trouble you, sir, but the Captain says could you give him a minute before we land? There’s something he’d like to check with you.’
    ‘Tell him I’ll be along directly.’
    Jared emptied his cup and replaced it on the tray, then, feeling in his pocket, he produced her hairpins. ‘Yours, I think. Though I would prefer you not to use them.’
    Seeing he was waiting for an answer, she muttered, ‘Very well.’
    He rose to his feet. ‘It’ll take another half an hour to reach San Francisco, so you have plenty of time to finish your tea and freshen up.’
     
    Their landing at San Francisco International Airport was as smooth as the take-off had been and, in no time at all, it seemed, their baggage had been unloaded and they were descending the aircraft steps.
    While Henry followed with their bags, a proprietorial handat her waist, Jared escorted Perdita across the hot tarmac to the terminal building.
    He was well known to the airport officials and, because they had flown from England to the States and both had dual nationalities, the formalities were over quickly.
    Perdita had hoped to claim her own passport but, with an easy movement that took her unawares, Jared slipped it into his pocket.
    When she would have argued, he said indulgently, ‘Darling, you’re such a scatterbrain. It’ll be safer with me.’
    Her teeth clenched in helpless rage, she had to watch while the little group smiled, before she was shepherded away.
    They took the elevator down to the underground parking lot where a white open-topped sports car was waiting in the long-stay section.
    Jared unlocked the car and helped Perdita in, while Henry dealt with the luggage.
    When their bags were safely stowed in the boot, Jared thanked him and the two men exchanged a few words before the steward turned to walk away.
    A few moments later they were leaving the relative gloom of the parking lot and climbing into the dazzling afternoon sunshine. Outside, the cloudless sky was the heavenly blue of lapis lazuli, while the dusty, fume-laden air hung hot and sticky with humidity.
    It was three years since Perdita had been on this part of the West Coast but it didn’t appear to have changed at all. There were still streams of traffic, massive wayside hoardings and a straggle of unprepossessing glass and concrete buildings.
    Right there on her wavelength, Jared remarked, ‘It isn’t the most exciting scenery in the world, but when I return from my business trips it always makes me feel as if I’m coming home.’
    As they nosed out onto the freeway and headed north,knowing there was no point in sulking, she asked, ‘Is it far to the Napa Valley?’
    ‘It’s a fair drive, but I think you’ll find it’s well worth it.’
    Already it had been a long journey, and with what he described as a ‘fair drive’ in front of him she wondered how Jared would cope but, glancing sideways at him, she saw he looked fit and vital and anything but tired.
    Noting her glance, he lifted an enquiring brow.
    A little thrown and needing something to say, she remarked, ‘I’m never quite sure what the time difference is out here.’
    ‘California is in the Pacific Time Zone—eight hours respectively behind Greenwich Mean Time—which means it’s already late evening in London.’
    When she had adjusted her watch, raising her voice above the wind of their passing and the engine noise, she asked, ‘Don’t you ever suffer from jet lag?’
    ‘Not as a rule. I’ve travelled so much over the past couple of years I find it easy to adjust.’
    He relapsed into silence and Perdita found herself glad not to have to talk or think.
    They had only gone a short distance when, slanting her a glance, Jared saw that her eyes were closed, the long silky lashes curling on her cheeks.
    Strands of