Summary: Gin is fire… glowing, vibrant and full of life.
Harry Potter is ice… cool, distant and difficult to reach.
Harry knows that Gin is the last woman he would fall for. After all, apart from her beautiful eyes, what else does she have going for her? For her part, Gin hates the handsome man who has destroyed everything that made her happy. Then fate intervenes and Harry finds himself fathoms deep in love with the mysterious Ginevra Raven, but Ginevra seems to be the only woman who is immune to the irresistible Potter charm…
Chapter 13
Tom walked into the Trapp Family Lodge and easily found the Austrian tea-room. He was dressed in dark green trousers and a mint green and black sweater. With his dark hair combed back from his face and his tan topped up by the May sunshine he looked devastating. Not surprisingly, he had no trouble being seated just where he wanted to be. Which was directly next to and opposite Hermione Granger's table. She had been in Stowe a month now, and Tom was sure she was up to something. The skiing season was long over, yet she still remained. And there was purposefulness about Hermione Granger that didn't quite equate with her image. Looking at her now, Tom was aware of a typically male interest stirring in his body. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, and Tom could feel her feminine, sexual allure with an appreciation that was genuine, but controlled. His mind was firmly on other things.
When the snow had gone, she should have done the same. Instead, her itinerary had been varied and interesting. It had begun with a strange two-day stay at practically every hotel in the town above three-star status. There had been a long, minute inspection of the tourist information office, before moving on to rent out a water canoe from the Buccaneer Country Lodge. Only a week ago, she had checked into the Top Notch, Stowe's unique resort spa that boasted heated pool, tennis and fine dining.
All this both intrigued and worried Tom, and the information he'd received on the lady from his New York sources had done nothing to reassure him. She had just pushed ahead with a bitter divorce, and New York was said to be agog at her new role as President Elect of Granger's. Once she'd learned the ropes. And it was the particular ropes she was learning that worried Tom. It didn't bode well for a Green Vermont, and another avaricious corporation plundering his land was something he simply would not tolerate.
He made his move. Hermione looked up to see a tall, handsome stranger smiling down at her. "Hi."
Hermione smiled back automatically. "Hi."
"Do you mind if I join you for a moment?"
Hermione hesitated. She felt instinctively afraid of the stranger And it was a new and an unsettling sensation. "Well I'm not…"
"I wanted to talk business. Honest injun," Tom held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, his smile widening. "I represent the Green Vermont Society. I think you and I should get our heads together, don't you?"
Hermione's eyes sharpened and Tom felt a shaft of pleasure hit him deep in his groin. He'd always liked strong women – he was like Harry in that respect.
Strong, beautiful women.
"That sounds like an ecological group." Hermione said quietly.
"It is." Tom confirmed, sitting down unasked in the chair opposite her and lowering his lids a fraction. It made him look incredibly sexy.
Hermione sipped some tea, giving herself time to think. On the one hand, it would be stupid and illogical not to get to know the local 'greens'. It made business sense, and besides, she herself agreed with a vast amount of green policy. But on the other hand… she glanced up once more at the stranger, her stomach tightening. He was a dangerous man, her instinct insisted, "Well, I'm not sure what I can do for you, or your society. Mr…?"
"Tom. Just Tom."
That cold, instinctive wariness that had gone hand in hand with her acute awareness of his masculinity now stepped up a notch. Why no last name? "Well, as I said, I don't quite understand why you've picked me out. Unless you're recruiting?"
Tom leaned forward, his movements slow and sinuous, like those of a snake, and she found herself leaning back in her chair, struggling for breath. When he smiled, it was the smile of a man who knew his own power. "I would like nothing bet5ter than to have you join our group," he purred. "After all, converting Hermione Granger into a 'green' would help solve an awful lot of global issues."
Hermione let out her breath on a burst of laughter. She blinked, desperately trying to find a foothold in this bizarre conversation. "I wouldn't say that!"
"I would. Granger is a giant. It pours huge quantities of waste into rivers. It gorges vast amounts of harmful gases into the atmosphere. It rips up forests of timber. It extracts billions of tons of the earth's minerals and riches. A green-minded person at the helm could help enormously." Tom didn't realise it, but his whole body, his face, even his voice, had changed. The hunting look in the eyes and the mockery I the voice had vanished. In its place was sincerity, stark and devastating. Although Tom was concentrating first and foremost on destroying Harry, he still genuinely despised developers, any developers with a passion.
Hermione found herself starring at him, rapidly reassessing her first impression. "You really mean it, don't you?" she breathed, her voice feathery with surprise.
Tom blinked and leaned across the table. Before, she could stop him; he took her hand in his. "Of course I do."
Hermione felt his fingers stroking the inside of her wrist, and the tiny shock-waves shot up her arm like little missiles. She snatched her hand away, her eyes shooting angry sparks. She felt cold anger wash like a chilling wave over her. "I hate to disappoint you, Tom," she said coldly. "But I'm already a convert, and I've already decided to do something about Granger's environmental record. You're not the only crusader, you know."
"Some crusader," Tom drawled, caught off guard by her abrupt defences. "I know what you've been up to. Sniffing about all the tourist goodies. Checking out the best hotels. Do you really think I'm not on to you, Ms Granger?"
Hermione's back went ice-cold. Had she really been so obvious? If this man knew, who else had guessed? Had she been too eager to learn all that had to be learned before going ahead with her plans? "I don't know what you're talking about." She said finally.
"No?" Tom rocked back on the chair, hands curling around the armrests, imagining they were her breasts. "Are you telling me that Granger Holidays Inc. isn't interested in moving into the winter holiday markets? They are mostly summer-vacation-orientated at the moment, aren't they?"
They were. It had been one of the reasons her father had been anxious to acquire a winter-based holiday operation. "I still don't see why that should concern you or your society, Mr… oh, I forgot. You don't have a last name, do you? I wonder if the authorities would be interested in finding out what it is?" she had scored a direct hit. She could see it by the shock-waves that widened his pupils and shot his body upright in the chair. Slowly, Tom stood and Hermione moved one step back. He was much taller than she'd thought, and the air around them crackled with tension.
Then Tom smiled again, though there was no hint of humour in his eyes dark depths. "I expected as much from the Granger Princess." He drawled, watching her lips tighten in displeasure as he used the hated nickname. "But the future president of Granger industries should have more backbone. You can expect to encounter opposition, Ms Granger. And if you build one of your Granger monsters here, your royal highness, I can guarantee you opposition."
Hermione smiled. "Perhaps you're not as well informed as you think you are," she said softly, vastly relieved to find that Tom was not as infallibly as she had begun to think.
Tom tensed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Mr… To,-"again she carefully used his lack of a last name as a psychological weapon against him. "- that I have no intention of building another hotel in Stowe. In fact, I rather think that it has more than enough, don't you?"
Tom's eyes narrowed. This meeting was not going at all as he had planned. Hermione Granger was no pushover. Not at all. Perhaps, he'd have top persuade her. Do you expect me to believe that? Do you really think we're so stupid?"
Hermione flushed. " I already told you, I agree with a vast amount of green issues. But there are other ways to acquire a winter-holiday company for Granger other than by building…" she stopped abruptly, realising too late that she had already said far too much. She picked up her bag and straightened her back, but she could see from the look on his face that she had made a bad blunder.
"You're planning a take-over," he said softly, only then slowly straightening from the table.
"I never said that," she snapped, her voice cold.
"Who?" he said sharply. He ran through a mental list of holiday companies, none of them sounding right. Granger went to the top of the market. They wouldn't be interested in the rent-a-chalet market so beloved of middle classes America.
No.
They would go for the crème de la crème. And, in Stowe, that meant…
"Harry Potter." He said softly, seeing the dismay flicker in her lovely brown eyes before she could disguise it.
"I never said that," Hermione repeated herself helplessly.
What a mess she was making of this!
But her self-anger quickly disappeared as she forced herself to concentrate on the man in front of her, who had suddenly gone pale, almost as if she had mortally wounded him. In his eyes there was a sudden shrinking and darkening that seemed to concentrate into something… mad. Without thinking about it, she took a step back, then another.
Tom shook his head, trying to clear it. "No." he said at last, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. She could not take over the Potter Leisure Corporation.
He would not let her.
He must be the one to destroy Harry.
He must be the one to take it away.
To watch Harry suffer.
"I can't let you do that," Tom warned, staring fiercely at the woman who was trying to rob him of his golden, glittering prize.
Hermione backed off another step. "I have to go," she said nervously, and, clutching her bag to her chest, she carefully walked around the table then headed for the door, walking so fast she was almost running.
Tom watched her go, his body slowly relaxing, and his mind settling into serenity as he faced the facts. It was simple really. He just had to stop her tasking over Harry's company.
But how?
Deep Green alone weren't equipped to handle anything like this. He needed allies of a different ilk, allies who moved in the same circles as the Grangers. Big business people. People with their own axes to grind.
People like Hermione Granger's bitter ex-husband possibly…?
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Tom was not the only one thinking about Hermione Granger. In the office, the Potter Orion, Harry pushed away the monthly figures for the hotel, his eyes thoughtful. The hotel was full, which was itself very satisfying. The work at the domed park was continuing at break-neck speed and the dry ski-run in the Three Peaks district had been mapped out and was due to be laid at any moment. Even the work he'd had commissioned at Ravenheights farm was all but completed. He frowned as he thought of the sad and unexpected death of Arthur Weasley. Dammit. Where was she? Gin Weasley. Should he find her and…?
And what?
He couldn't give her back her family.
He shuddered, suddenly feeling cold. Would the image of those burning, sherry-coloured, tiger bright eyes never go away?
Tiredly he rubbed his neck. It was definitely time to go home – he missed Vermont badly, and a familiar restless longing to return to the mountains was nagging him once more. Forcing thoughts of Gin Weasley to the back of his mind, he reached across the desk for the latest wad of information from Neville Longbottom and read it for the fourth time.
Hermione Granger had turned up in Stowe, the site of the latest Potter hotel, and had been doing some very odd things. Neville thought that she could only be on a scouting mission for Granger Holidays inc., and Harry was forced to agree with his analysis. It was obvious that Hermione Granger was serious about going into the family business, and her presence in Stowe seemed to indicate that she was going about it by picking up exactly where her brother had left off. And that meant taking over Potter leisure. Reluctantly, he reached for the phone and booked a flight to New York.
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"Now this is going to feel very strange at first," the young man looming over Ginevra warned her gently, his breath hot against her cheek. "Obviously, anything to do with the eyes is very sensitive, but you'll soon get used to inserting contact lenses for yourself. Now, just relax…"
Half an hour later, Ginevra left the opticians, having said goodbye to her old, heavy and ugly black-framed glasses for good. Yet another piece of the old Gin Weasley had been eradicated, and she smiled in triumph as she walked briskly back to the flat, where Lavender was anxiously waiting.
"Let's have a look… Oh, Ginevra, you look fabulous!" Happily, dragged her friend in front of a mirror. "Can't you see what it does for you? Before, half your face was hidden by those horrible black things. Now you can see where your cheekbones start and finish, and the top half of your nose is visible again – it's quite a good nose too, now you can see it. Sort of - patrician. And your eyes… Ginevra, they look fabulous."
"The optician said that," Ginevra admitted, and blushed. Lavender nodded knowingly.
"And they'll be more compliments to come," she prophesised. "Lots more, I promise." She hugged Ginevra hard. "Once you've lost another stone, we'll see about getting your hair cut. The hairdresser will have a better idea of what will suit you then."
Ginevra nodded. She could wait. After all, Harry Potter wasn't going anywhere. Was he?
a/n: Heya I just had to let fab a anon reviewer know thank you so much for her review! It's really appreciated and you really made my day!