His After-Hours Mistress(24)

       
           



       

Ginny shook her head in bewilderment. 'I've never met anyone like you.  You've aggravated me constantly ever since we met, and yet … '

His teeth glittered as he grinned. 'You can't keep your hands off me?'

She sighed and winced. 'Something like that,' she agreed, then turned  back to him. 'This has got to be the weirdest situation. I'm standing  here actually considering sleeping with you, when only days ago I was  having dinner with another man.' And planning to marry him-if he asked  her.

That wasn't going to happen now. Not because Roarke figured in her  future, but because her attraction to him was showing her that a  marriage without love and desire was impossible. She was a woman with  passion, and to contemplate ignoring those needs and settling for Daniel  was wrong. She didn't love him, and certainly wasn't sexually attracted  to him. Such a relationship would be a disaster. He deserved better-and  so did she.

'Sweetheart, you can be damn sure we're no good to anyone else whilst  we're wanting each other this way,' Roarke drawled with some of his old  irony, uncannily echoing her own thoughts. 'Come on, let's head back  before someone discovers we're missing and wants to know where we've  been and what we've been doing. I'd hate to have to lie to my mother.'

Ginny laughed as he intended she should, and the tension which had been  surrounding them eased considerably. 'She must know the kind of thing  you get up to.'

They strolled back along the path. 'She imagines what I get up to; she  doesn't know. I haven't talked to anyone about my relationships since I  was in my teens. I once hurt a girl I liked very badly, by talking to  someone who couldn't be trusted. She slapped my face in front of  practically the whole school, and I deserved it.'

Ginny couldn't resist slipping her hand into his and squeezing it  gently. 'You know, you really are a nice guy. Though it pains me to say  it, I doubt I could go back to actively disliking you.'

Roarke glanced down at her quizzically. 'Your trouble is, you're not as  frosty as you like to make out, which will make it impossible for me to  see you as anything but warm-hearted. I used to enjoy taunting you in  the office.'

She laughed softly. 'I know. What will we do now that we've started a mutual admiration society?'

He sent her a wolfish grin, the kind that curled her toes and set her  heart tripping expectantly. 'Oh, we'll think of something to keep us  amused. I have quite an imagination.'

It didn't sound to Ginny as if he was talking about verbal badinage, but  she chose not to pursue it. For the moment the fires had been banked  and it was easier to assume an appearance of calm.

Her thoughts were distracted not long afterwards by a sudden swell of  noise from the front of the hotel, which separated itself into the sound  of voices laughing and talking. As they rounded the side of the  building, they could see the bride and groom were standing on the top of  the entrance steps, clearly about to leave. As they joined the back of  the group, Ginny could hear several voices urging Caroline to throw her  bouquet. Laughing, she placed her hand over her eyes and launched the  bouquet into the air with the other.

There were gasps and cries of 'Catch it!' but Ginny was so busy watching  the arc it made that she didn't realise it was heading straight for her  until almost the last second, when she raised her hands to protect her  head-and caught the bouquet instead. Nobody could have been more  surprised than she, but then she became aware of the pointed remarks  about confetti and wedding bells which were being sent Roarke's way, and  colour stormed into her cheeks. Instinctively, she looked around for  someone more deserving to pass the flowers on to, but everyone was  smiling at her and wishing her good fortune, so she could do nothing but  hold on to it.

It really was a lovely bouquet, and smelled heavenly, she discovered  when she buried her face in it to avoid having to look Roarke in the  eye. Eventually, though, she had to look at him, to find him brushing  off the comments with good humour. Sensing her watching him, he sent a  questioning look her way.

'I'm sorry,' she apologised. 'I didn't mean to catch it. I thought it  was going to hit me, so I put my hand up. I ought to have ducked.'

He grinned. 'If you'd done that, I would have caught it instead.  Something tells me Caroline knew what she was doing,' he added  thoughtfully.

Ginny looked startled. 'You mean she threw it our way deliberately? Why?'

'Because people who are happy themselves want to see others find  happiness the same way. She obviously thinks we should get married,'  Roarke explained sardonically.                       
       
           



       

'That would be a sure-fire recipe for disaster. We're simply not compatible.' Ginny had the answer to that.

'We're not totally incompatible, either. In some areas we appear to be getting along like a house on fire,' he corrected wryly.

A chauffeur-driven car drew up outside the hotel, and that was the happy  couple's cue to make their escape. They did so in a shower of confetti,  and then they were in the car and being driven off to start their  honeymoon. As ever, a faint sense of anticlimax settled over the party,  and they slowly made their way back inside. However, it was not long  before the younger family members were dancing, and the level of noise  rose as the celebration got under way again. It showed every possibility  of continuing long into the night.

By unspoken agreement Ginny and Roarke did not dance again, but spent  the next few hours chatting with various members of his family. Though  she had only met them briefly, Ginny knew she would miss them, for they  had made her welcome with a kindness she was not familiar with. At least  now she had had a glimpse of what a real family could be like, and that  was what she wanted for herself.

Around midnight Ginny began to feel the effects of the long, eventful  day, and when she stifled yet another yawn Roarke suggested they should  leave. They made their farewells, and headed for the door. Ginny would  have liked to have said a few words to her mother and sister, but the  Brigadier had them under his watchful eye, and she decided it would  probably be best not to rock the boat any more than she had already  today.

It didn't take long to be driven back to the house. Lights were on, but  most of the family and guests were still at the hotel. Roarke led the  way into the drawing room, unfastening his tie as he went and slipping  it into his jacket pocket before releasing the neck buttons on his  shirt. His hair was mussed up from where he had combed his fingers  through it, and there was the shadow of beard on his jaw. To Ginny he  looked handsome and sexy as hell.

'Fancy a nightcap?' he asked, strolling to the sideboard where a  stunning array of drinks were set out. He turned to her, holding a cut  glass brandy snifter in one hand and a bottle of Napoleon brandy in the  other.

I fancy you more. The thought just slipped into her consciousness,  accompanied by the impulse to close the distance between them, pull his  head down to hers and share a kiss that would do more for her than any  alcohol ever could.

Something of what she was thinking must have reached him, for suddenly there was an intense look in his eyes.

'Are you going to carry through on that?' he asked in a tellingly husky voice, making her nerves jump at his perspicacity.

'Carry through on what?' she countered, equally gruffly.

He took a step towards her. 'What you were just thinking.'

She swallowed to moisten a dry mouth. 'How do you know what I was thinking?'

'You have very expressive eyes, and though I might not know the exact words, the gist is sending my pulse-rate rocketing.'

Ginny licked her lips, an act that drew his gaze and made her breath  hitch in her throat. 'I'm sorry about that, because I don't know what  I'm going to do. I haven't made up my mind.'

'It's interesting to know you can be as typically female as the next  woman, but you pick a hell of a time to do it,' Roarke responded wryly.

'Unintentionally. I'm not a tease.' She wouldn't want him to think that. He didn't, because he smiled ruefully.

'I know you're not, Ginny. It's not in your nature.'

His certainty confused her. How could he be so sure? 'I've been accused of it before.'

'Only by people who don't know you as well as I do.' He dismissed the statement easily.

'You've scarcely known me longer yourself,' she felt compelled to point out, but he merely shook his head.

'Time has nothing to do with it. You can know a person your whole life  and not know them at all. Then you can know somebody for twenty-four  hours, and know them better than you know yourself. I feel I've come to  know you very well, Ginny Harte, in the last couple of days.'

As she had come to know him. He had turned into a man she couldn't help  being attracted to. Not for his good looks, although there was no  denying that, but for the man he was. He had awakened her dormant  sensuality without even trying, and she was beginning to realise she had  been denying a vital part of herself for too long. Wanting Roarke was  making her feel alive in a way she hadn't been for years. And it felt  good. Maybe something was telling her it was time to kick over the  traces and start living again. Dared she?