The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience(30)

‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘There will be no more Kat, darlings. Not only does it sound ridiculous, but it’s also a dead giveaway. You’ve always called me Kathryn. Please keep doing so.’





His sigh sounded resigned. ‘Very well Kathryn. Is that it for the practicalities?’





‘I can’t think of anything else right now.’ She’d have to cancel all her previous wedding arrangements. She’d start making phone calls as soon as she got back to Sydney. The thought was not only dismaying but also slightly shocking. Yesterday, she’d been all set to marry Daryl. It seemed incredible that, less than twenty-four hours later, she was planning a very different type of marriage to a very different type of man.





She stared over at Hugh, who was leaning against the verandah railing with his hands deep in his trouser pockets, his handsome face turned away from hers towards the sea.





Impossible to look at him now without being besieged by a host of confusing emotions. As much as she felt she should dislike and despise him for blackmailing her into his bed like this, she could not seem to do so. Kathryn supposed it was a common feminine failing to be immensely flattered when a man admitted to an all-consuming passion. She’d had men declare that they fancied her like mad before this, but never a man like Hugh, who could have his pick of all the women in Australia, maybe even the world.





His desire for her was not only flattering, but also incredibly seductive. It made her feel weak.





Of course, sex had always been a weakness with her. She loved everything to do with lovemaking. Loved the way it could take her away from the sometimes harsh reality of life into a world where nothing existed but the pleasure of the moment.





Hugh, she imagined, might just leave her previous experiences in the shade.





He suddenly turned his head to face her.





‘I think we should be getting back to Sydney,’ he said abruptly. ‘Otherwise we’ll catch the peak-hour traffic going through the city.’





‘Are we going back to the office?’





He glanced at his watch. ‘No. I’ll drive you straight home. But I’ll still go over the bridge then onto the western distributor. Come on, let’s go.’





‘I have to lock up first.’





‘I’ll wait for you in the car.’





Kathryn took several deep breaths as she walked through the house one last time, checking the windows and trying to absorb the peaceful atmosphere which she’d experienced out on the verandah earlier, but which seemed to be eluding her now.





Her nerves had become jangled, of course. Hugh had jangled them, with his passionate kisses, his provocative admissions and his plans for a much quicker marriage. If he could organise a special licence—and Kathryn had no doubt he would—she would soon be his legal wife.





It was a mind-boggling thought.





‘I won’t think about that now,’ she said, then smiled when she realised she’d said exactly what Scarlet said in Gone with the Wind. Kathryn didn’t add that she’d think about it tomorrow. Because she knew she’d think about it again tonight. All night, probably.





‘I’ll be back,’ she promised the house as she turned the lock on the front door. ‘And next time, I’ll be alone.’





CHAPTER TEN





HUGH wasn’t on the road very long before he began to regret not seducing Kathryn when they’d been up at Pearl Beach. He really should have swept her off to bed whilst he had the chance. The unexpectedly vulnerable woman she’d become after his kisses on the verandah was no longer to be seen. She’d well and truly disappeared, replaced by the extremely practical and irritatingly pragmatic creature he’d hired.





‘By the way,’ she’d said when first returning to his car, ‘you’ll need birth certificates to get any type of marriage licence. Mine’s at home, in my dressing-table drawer. I’ll get it for you when you drop me off. Oh, and please don’t go buying wedding rings. Some intuitive salesperson might alert the media. We can use the rings I bought for my marriage to Daryl. I did pay for them after all. And it’s not as though we’ll be wearing them afterwards.’





Her coolly composed demeanour did what it always did to him—made him want her all the more. It was just as well he’d moved their marriage forward. As it was, a week would seem like an eternity. His imagining that the wait might increase his physical pleasure did not compute at this precise moment. He was literally in pain, his flesh aching with need, his mind in a lather of frustration.