His After-Hours Mistress(5)

Roarke started down the stairs. 'Caroline is very much like our mother.  She can convince herself of anything. If she wants to get away from  Mother's influence, she could well have convinced herself she loves this  guy.' He took time out to shoot her a mocking glance over his shoulder.  'You might have gathered that relationships aren't our thing. Caro's a  brilliant flautist, but emotionally she's caught in the fallout of our  parents' broken relationships like the rest of us. I give this marriage a  fifty-fifty chance at best.'

Having reached the ground, Roarke held the door open for her. 'You don't expect it to last?' Ginny asked as she walked outside.

Taking her arm, Roarke guided her to where he had parked his car. 'None of the others have, so the odds are against it.'

'Which is why you aren't even going to attempt a proper marriage,' she  pronounced, and Roarke grinned at her over the boot before closing it  with a solid thunk.

'Got it in one.'

He helped her into the car, but there was very little time for talking  as the traffic that evening was heavier than usual. In fact, they only  just made it to the airport in time, and their flight had already been  called. Ginny didn't have time to catch a breath until they were in the  air and the seat belt sign went out.                       
       
           



       

'There's nothing like a frantic last-minute dash to set you up for the  weekend,' Roarke drawled sardonically as he made himself comfortable in  the spacious first class seats.

'I look at it this way, things can only get better,' Ginny responded lightly.

He laughed. 'Don't you believe it. You haven't spent any time with my family before.'

Ginny frowned at him. 'Nobody can be as bad as the picture you're  painting,' she argued, though she knew full well that they could be as  cold and unforgiving as an arctic winter. 'Your grandfather is always a  gentleman.'

'True,' Roarke agreed easily. 'He's one member of the family I'd do  anything for. Unfortunately, he won't be there. Pressure of work, he  told me, but I think he just doesn't want to run into my mother. They  don't see eye to eye on anything.'

The affection in his voice when he spoke of his grandfather caused Ginny  to look at him curiously. 'So there's one human being you do care  about. You aren't quite the lost cause you like to make out. Why do you  hide it?'

Roarke glanced round at her, a mocking smile back on his lips. 'Wait  till you meet the family. Then, if you're half as smart as I think you  are, you'll understand.'

Ginny looked away, fixing her attention on the view from the window. She  wasn't sure she wanted to meet any of his family. Then a small smile  tweaked at her lips. Well, they were the Adams family, so what else  could she expect?

'What's so funny?' Roarke enquired, and Ginny, who hadn't realised she was smiling, hastily composed her features.

'Private joke,' she murmured with a shrug, hoping to put him off asking  further, which it did, but only set him off in another unexpected  direction.

After giving her a doubtful look, as if he had guessed what she was  thinking, he said, 'So what about your family? They can't be as gruesome  as mine.'

It was an automatic response for Ginny to tense, though she had battled  hard to feel nothing over the years. She tensed because the memories  were as painful as they had ever been. Try as she might not to care, she  knew in her heart of hearts that she always would.

'I have no family,' she told him shortly, knowing she sounded far too abrupt, which would only pique his irritating interest.

There was a second of surprise while he assimilated this, then he  frowned as he made the logical assumption. 'I'm sorry. I had no idea  your parents were dead. You must miss them.'

Ginny had no intention of explaining anything to him, but, on the other  hand, he was offering sympathy, and she couldn't take that under false  pretences either. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she felt  compelled to put him straight. 'They're not dead,' she corrected  bluntly.

Beside her, Roarke's eyebrows rose, then drew together in another frown.  'You're saying you don't know who they are? That would explain the lack  of photographs in your flat.'

Gritting her teeth, Ginny swivelled her head to give him a darkling  look. 'I'm not saying that at all. Now, if you don't mind, I'd rather we  changed the subject.' She couldn't be more pointed than that, but, as  she had expected, Roarke ignored the heavy hint.

'Hey, you can't leave it there. You've got my mind buzzing with  off-the-wall scenarios here. Besides, I told you about the skeletons in  my family closet, so it's only fair you should do the same,' he cajoled  her.

'You volunteered the information,' she was quick to point out. 'I could have done with knowing less.'

Roarke grinned. 'Come on now, sweetheart. You know you found it fascinating in a sort of perverse way.'

'I did not!' she denied, though she knew that wasn't totally true.

'Did too!' he quipped back, making them sound like two children sniping  at each other. It made her want to laugh, and she hated that he could do  that to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'OK, so I didn't find it completely  uninteresting,' she admitted, and held up her hand as he started to  speak. 'But that doesn't mean I have to tell you anything about my  family.'

'So you do have one. I was beginning to think you sprang into this world  fully formed,' he mocked her, and Ginny sighed. He wasn't going to give  up unless she said something.

There was no way she could keep the reluctance from her expression, and  she wasn't laughing when she spoke. 'I'll tell you one thing, but only  if you promise not to ask any more questions.'                       
       
           



       

The laughter faded from his grey eyes. 'You make it sound like the end of the world.'

She held his gaze. 'Your promise, Roarke.'

'OK, I promise. No more questions, no matter what you say.'

Ginny glanced down at her hands, composing herself so that she would  reveal nothing, not by a look or an expression. Her gaze was bland when  she looked at him again. 'Very well, I'll tell you this much. I no  longer exist,' she told him quietly, and saw the myriad questions  forming in his head. Yet she knew he wouldn't let one of them pass his  lips, for he had given his word and she knew that, once given, he would  not go back on it.

Roarke sat back in his seat, puffing out a frustrated breath. 'You realise this is going to drive me mad?'

That wasn't her intention, for she wasn't deliberately cruel. It had  been her only defence to his probing questions. She couldn't tell him  that her family wasn't dead to her, but that she was dead to her family.  He would want to know why. She had had to shut him up and that had been  the only way.

'Best not to think about it, then,' she advised, picking up one of the magazines she had bought to while away the flight with.

'God, you're an aggravating woman! Why didn't you just say nothing?' he demanded testily, and that made her lips quirk.

'I tried that, but you insisted. You only have yourself to blame.  Something for you to remember in future. Curiosity can be a dangerous  thing,' she told him with a husky laugh.

The sound of her laugh brought a rueful expression to his face. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?'

Ginny couldn't help but laugh again. 'There's a certain amusement in the situation.'

'I had no idea you could be so nasty.'

She shook her head sadly. 'I told you. You … '

' … only have myself to blame. Thank you for rubbing salt into the wound.  It's made me feel a lot better,' Roarke muttered grumpily, but she could  tell there was no real animosity in it. He had been well and truly  hoist by his own petard.

Secure in the knowledge that she had headed him off at the pass, Ginny  concentrated on her magazine until her eyes began to close. Knowing  sleep would make the journey pass more quickly, she settled her seat  into a more comfortable position and was asleep in seconds.

It was a hand gently shaking her that brought her awake some time later,  and in that moment of slight disorientation she glanced round to get  her bearings and found herself looking into Roarke's concerned eyes no  more than inches away from her own.

'What-?' she croaked, inexplicably fascinated by the depth in those grey  orbs. She experienced the fanciful notion that they were bottomless.  Perfect for drowning in.

'You were having a bad dream.' Roarke's soft words cut into her errant  thoughts, causing her to blink and really see him. The words sent a  chill through her and she shivered. 'I thought you'd rather I woke you  up.'

Ginny licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly aware of a warmth on her  shoulder. Glancing down, she discovered Roarke's hand still rested there  from when he had shaken her to rouse her. It was this that was creating  the only hot spot on her body, but it was radiating warmth.  Disconcerted by the effect, she touched the button which brought her  seat upright and removed his hand at the same time.