Reading Online Novel

The Billionaire's Captive Bride(14)



Peter wondered how far he could push the relationship, how far Erin  Lavelle would let it be pushed before her strong sense of independence  kicked in and cut him out. He didn't think his wealth counted for  anything with her. In fact, far from being a gold-star attraction, that  might well be a stumbling block, too.

"It was you who brought up the subject of marriage, Peter," she said, still discomfited by his husband-list comment.         

     



 

"Marriage and motherhood," he readily conceded, intent on stirring some more telling reactions.

"Right! So we've covered that ground."

She was drawing a line of finality under it.

"I've never been to the races," she quickly stated. "Tell me what to expect. Tell me about your horse."

She made it easy to oblige her, flooding him with eager questions,  listening to his answers so she could hit off them, broadening her  inquiry into the whole business of horse-racing. In fact, her  concentrated interest made it a pleasure to give her the knowledge she  sought, and by the time they reached Randwick Racecourse, Peter was  thinking he'd never been interviewed so intelligently on a subject.

Her lively curiosity continued over lunch in the directors' dining room  and in the champagne bar afterwards. The people they met-friends,  acquaintances and associates of his-all responded very positively to the  happy energy she emitted. It was impossible not to like her.

Her smile, the gorgeous green eyes sparkling with fascinated interest,  the way she listened, focussing so directly on the person who was  speaking to her and soaking in every word that was said … the men were all  charmed by her, the women intrigued, surreptitiously eyeing her over,  half of them probably wanting to find fault and frustrated at not  finding anything to criticise.

He knew what they were thinking-Who is this Erin Lavelle?

The wife of one of the race-course directors actually mulled over the  name out loud. "Erin Lavelle … I'm sure I've read about you somewhere. I  just can't think of the connection. Such a pretty name. Are you an  actress or something?"

Erin laughed at the idea, shaking her head. "I'm simply lucky enough to  be Peter's companion today." She hugged his arm, her eyes flirtatiously  engaging his, deflecting any further pursuit of her personal identity.

Peter got the message that she didn't want him to give out information  on her background so he deftly turned the conversation away from what  might be a sensitive issue to her in this company.

Was it another fantasy, he wondered, being his mystery companion for the day?

As they moved away, heading for the members' terrace to watch the races,  he aimed a quizzical smile at her. "Are you worried that I might be  uncomfortable about having it known that you're a preschool teacher I  met in a public park?"



He wouldn't be, Erin thought. He'd probably be amused by the reactions  such a statement would arouse. But would he be as amused to find himself  with a woman who was not a nobody? If she'd told that director's wife  why the name of Erin Lavelle was familiar to her, revealed the fame she  had in her own field, this easy comfort zone she and Peter currently  occupied could have been blown sky-high.

She hadn't wanted to risk that-people gushing over her in public,  ignoring the man who was giving her this special day, making him feel  stupid for not knowing the truth about her. The truth would have to be  told soon enough. But not yet. She didn't want him to look at her  differently. She liked what they were sharing right now, didn't want  anything to spoil it.

"I have the right to keep my private life private, Peter," she said  quietly. It was best that way. She hated all the fuss that came with  being the author. And the men she'd been with hadn't liked it, either,  being put in the shade of her success.

"The longer you're with me, the less chance you have of that, Erin," Peter warned seriously.

She heaved a rueful sigh, realising that his high profile would  inevitably stir interest in any woman at his side. Her eyes appealed for  his forebearance. "It's no one else's business how we met or what we're  doing together. Let's just take one day at a time, Peter."



Peter's protective instincts rose instantly to the fore as he read the  vulnerability in her eyes. No way would he let anyone badger Erin about  her background, making her feel not up to his status. Though her obvious  insecurity about how long they'd be together stirred an even stronger  determination that this connection with Erin Lavelle was not going to be  a one-day wonder.

"Well, today is race day," he said lightly, "so let's go and watch the races."

They found good seats on the members' terrace and Erin relaxed, eager to  soak up more new knowledge. He explained the coloured silks of the  jockeys as the horses were paraded out to the starting gates. She seemed  totally entranced by the scene, sitting with her hands in her lap, her  body leaning forward, her gaze trained on the horses as they raced  around the course.         

     



 

She didn't leap up in excitement as they turned for the gallop to the  winning post. The crowd on the terrace was in its usual uproar but she  simply sat quietly, and Peter had the uneasy feeling her mind had  slipped to another place and she was there by herself, not with him or  anyone else. The race finished and she didn't even seem aware of the  bustling aftermath-people going off to get drinks, celebrating their  winnings or commiserating over their losses.

"Erin … "

No response.

He reached over and touched her hands. Her head jerked towards him, eyes wide and startled.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Oh!" Hot colour whooshed into her cheeks. Embarrassed confusion in her  eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drift off. I just do sometimes," she  rattled out apologetically.

Did she have some mental problem?

"It's nothing to do with you, Peter," she swiftly assured him. "You've  been marvellous company. It was watching the horses. They're so  beautiful and it started me thinking … "

She hesitated, frowning, and he sensed a deep reluctance to reveal the  inner workings of her mind. Instinctively recognising a barrier that had  to faced, crossed if possible, Peter pushed for an understanding of  what it entailed.

"Erin, I don't have to be the centre of your attention. I'm just curious about what did captivate it so exclusively."

She heaved a sigh, following it up with a wry grimace. "I have a vivid  imagination, Peter. Sometimes it just takes off. I know it's a bit  disconcerting for the people I'm with. I don't mean to block them out.  Please just excuse it. Okay?" She gave him a blindingly brilliant smile.  "I'm right back in your world now."

As opposed to her world? Which she thought he couldn't, wouldn't share?

"What was going on in your imagination?" he pressed.

Her eyes instantly took on a guarded look. It told him she was mentally  backing off even before she voiced the dismissal in her mind. "I was  just playing with an idea. Let's leave it at that." Then she was on her  feet, emitting a sense of urgency. "I really need to go to the ladies'  room. Will you excuse me?"

"Of course."

He stood to accompany her part of the way but she was already rushing  off, leaving Peter feeling that he'd somehow lost that round with Erin  Lavelle. Though she had given him a valuable insight into how she viewed  this encounter with him. They came from separate worlds and to her  mind, it wasn't feasible that the two would mix, so any long-term  relationship with him was not on the cards.

She might be right.

But Peter was not about to give up on what he felt with this woman. The sense that he'd be missing out was stronger than ever.



Wonderful winged horses were flying through Erin's mind as she quickly  negotiated her way to the ladies' room-five of them: white, grey,  chestnut, dark brown and black, with beautifully coloured wings, like  butterflies. The Mythical horses of … of … Mirrima. That sounded right. They  were going to make a marvellous, magical story.

She'd been constructing the opening verse for it when Peter had called  her out of her creative reverie. This wasn't the time or place for her  to go on with it but she wanted to get these first thoughts into her  notebook for later. Luckily she had transferred everything from last  night's handbag to the new black one she'd bought this morning. It was  automatic-never going anywhere without a notebook and pen.

As soon as she reached the ladies' room, she had them out, writing down  the ideas that had come to her. They were exciting and she had to quell  the urge to keep playing with them. Peter Ramsey was her top priority  today and she didn't want to put him off her. If she hadn't already by  tripping somewhere else in her mind.

Not good, Erin chided herself. She'd had the amazing luck to meet an  amazing man and what he'd given her so far was much better than any  imaginary world. Stupid to put it at risk by acting oddly. Their  differences would no doubt end it soon enough, but she'd much prefer it  to be later than sooner.