Читать книгу His After-Hours Mistress - AMANDA BROWNING, Amanda Browning - Страница 7

GINNY went out to dinner with Daniel that evening. She liked him a lot, but it wasn’t always easy to enjoy his conversations, because he could be rather stuffy. He could also, though it pained her to admit it, be something of the cold fish Roarke thought him. Tonight, though, she had to work extra hard to concentrate whilst he told her about his terrible day. Unfortunately, Ginny’s thoughts were miles away, and that irritated her, because she didn’t like the fact that Roarke kept floating into her mind. Thankfully, Daniel didn’t appear to notice her distraction, and she made a concerted effort to be more attentive whilst they waited for their desserts.

When Daniel reached across the table and took her hand, she smiled at him just a little curiously, because he wasn’t a ‘touching’ sort of person.

‘I have a surprise for you,’ he declared with boyish enthusiasm, and Ginny’s heart suddenly leapt into her throat as she wondered if this was to be the moment he proposed.

‘You have?’ she asked a tad breathlessly, whilst mentally she prepared herself for what she would say in response. The surroundings could have been more romantic—the restaurant was chosen for its convenience, not its ambience. ‘What sort of surprise?’

Daniel’s smile broadened at her apparent eagerness. ‘My parents have invited us both to their place for the weekend. When I told them how wonderful you are, my mother insisted that she had to meet you. I know she’ll adore you as much as I do.’

Ginny tried her best to hold on to her smile, but she could feel it fading and her facial muscles stiffening. It wasn’t that it hadn’t been the question she had hoped for, but rather the fact she was going to have to refuse what was close to being a royal summons.

‘Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry, but I can’t go. I was going to tell you later. I have to go to Switzerland this weekend,’ she told him apologetically, hoping to soften the blow, but she could tell from the way he dropped her hand that he was not best pleased.

‘With Adams, I presume!’ Daniel responded frostily, causing her to blink at his tone.

Ever since she had agreed to this trip, Ginny had been wondering what she was going to tell Daniel. She abhorred deception, but his reaction told her clearly that the truth was out of the question. She had known for a long time that Roarke didn’t think highly of Daniel, but she hadn’t realised until now just how deeply Daniel disliked Roarke.

‘Of course. It’s business,’ she lied, watching him sit back and fold his arms.

‘I don’t trust him,’ Daniel pronounced bluntly, and Ginny frowned just a little. She could see where this was going, but she had never given him cause to worry. It surprised her to think he had given the possibility credence. He had no need to be jealous.

‘You trust me, don’t you?’ she asked soothingly, and he instantly reached for her hand again.

‘I do. Of course I do. It’s just that that man…’ Daniel let the sentence hang, and she knew what he meant. Roarke’s reputation went before him.

She squeezed his hand. ‘Is someone I have no interest in at all. However, the trips are part of my job.’ OK, not this one, but he didn’t need to know that.

Daniel nodded reluctantly. ‘I know, but Mother won’t be best pleased. She hates having her arrangements altered. She won’t like it, and I need her to like you.’

Ginny did a swift mental double-take. Daniel made the visit sound as if she was being presented for inspection, and whether or not he married her depended on his mother’s report. She didn’t much care for the sound of that, for good reason. Her father had insisted on vetting her boyfriends, and for the most part had found them wanting. They had not been welcome in his house and she had been compelled to follow his dictates until she was old enough not to need his approval.

To find herself on the receiving end of a similar situation now, when she had put all that behind her, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There was no way she was prepared to go through that.

‘Does it really matter if she likes me, Daniel? After all, I’m going out with you, not her.’ She tried to make light of it, seeking reassurance.

She got it—of a sort. ‘I suppose not,’ he agreed uncomfortably, then laughed. ‘No, no, of course it doesn’t. Though I would prefer her to like you. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t, of course. It’s simply that I’ve always sought her opinion on the important things,’ Daniel explained, as if that would make it acceptable.

Ginny swallowed her unease. The situations weren’t the same. All she would be doing was meeting his parents. It had to happen eventually. ‘I shall do my best to make her like me, if that will make you happy. All we have to do is postpone the visit for a few weeks.’ If it was important to him, then she would bite the bullet. As he said, there was no reason why his mother shouldn’t like her. She shouldn’t allow the past to cloud the present.

Daniel looked relieved. ‘That would be wonderful. I just know she’s going to like you. My mother has a very discerning eye.’

Ginny let the matter rest there, but later, when she was lying in her bed trying to sleep, the conversation went over and over in her mind. An uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu came over her. Daniel was the man she’d settled for, but she didn’t want to have to battle his mother for him, and that was what she feared was going to happen. She had been through that, and wasn’t about to let it happen again. But maybe she was seeing bogeymen where there were none. After all, she was predisposed to balk at the idea of being inspected. It would be best to reserve judgement until she had met his parents.

They couldn’t be as bad as her own. Nobody’s could. With which comforting thought she was finally able to drift off to sleep.

The rest of the week was hectic, and Friday came round all too quickly. As she packed for the trip that evening, Ginny decided she was out of her mind. Not only had she bought a new outfit for the occasion, which would have been acceptable, but she had bought several other things as well. For a trip she hadn’t wanted to go on, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to. The truth of the matter was that she couldn’t just turn out in any old rag. Never mind she was going to be playing a part, these people were Roarke’s family, and a wedding was a very special occasion. She couldn’t bring any sort of disharmony to the day by treating it as a non-event. Besides, she had the feeling Jenna Adams would be dressed in only the best, and there was no way she would let the woman upstage her.

A glance at her watch told Ginny that Roarke would be here soon. Closing the case, she took it out to the hall, then double-checked that she had her passport in her handbag. Which left her with nothing to do but wait, and nerves started to churn in her stomach. They had nothing to do with flying, because she was well used to it. Nor was it due to the fact that she was travelling with Roarke, for she had done that countless times too. No, the nerves were due to the fact she hated waiting. Waiting gave her time to think, and her thoughts were rarely pleasant.

She had learned to keep herself busy, to always have something on hand in which to engross herself, but she couldn’t do that now because Roarke was due any minute. She paced to the window of her flat and stared down at the road, but no car was pulling up. Where was he?

The silent question triggered a memory, and she could see herself looking out of the window of that grotty bedsit, waiting for Mark to come home so she could tell him her news. He had never come. Instead he had abandoned her to a terrifying future which had ultimately led to tragedy. She had waited that night, too. Alone in the dark, in pain.

‘No!’ With a low moan Ginny spun round, closing out the thoughts. She wouldn’t go there. Not again.

The sound of the intercom buzzing made her jump, but it was closely followed by a sense of relief. He was here. She crossed to the intercom.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Roarke,’ his disembodied voice informed her.

‘Top floor, on the right,’ she directed him, pressing the door release. She just had time to catch him muttering, ‘It would be, wouldn’t it!’

Ginny went to the door to meet him. To her eyes he didn’t look the least bit out of breath when he reached her.

‘Hasn’t anyone ever thought of installing a lift?’ he complained, and she shook her head at him.

‘It’s only three floors.’

‘But six flights,’ he was quick to point out.

‘Quit complaining. You’re the fittest man I know,’ Ginny responded dryly. She knew for a fact that he worked out regularly, and though she had never seen it, she suspected there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on the whole of his body.

‘Remind me never to come to you for sympathy,’ Roarke muttered as he glanced around. ‘Is this it?’ he asked, pointing to her single case.

Ginny nodded. ‘It’s all I shall need for a few days,’ she confirmed, though she was well aware she had packed too much.

Roarke hefted her case and laughed. ‘My mother never travels with less than thirty pieces of luggage.’

Ginny couldn’t imagine having the clothes to fill them. ‘Think about the excess she must have to pay!’ she exclaimed in amazement.

‘Think of the pandemonium that arises every time she thinks a piece is missing!’ Roarke countered sardonically, and Ginny winced.

‘Ouch. Does that happen often?’

‘Nearly every time. You see, life has to be a drama for her. She’s the prima donna to end all prima donnas. It wouldn’t surprise me if my sister is marrying this man just to get away from our mother,’ he declared outrageously.

‘Oh, but surely she loves him,’ Ginny protested, uneasy at the idea that any woman would do such a thing.

Roarke shrugged indifferently. ‘She probably thinks she does.’

‘Thinks she does?’ Ginny challenged as she pulled the door closed behind her and checked it was securely shut.

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.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered awkwardly. ‘Was I making much noise?’ she added, glancing round surreptitiously to see if anyone was looking at her. Much to her relief, nobody was.

Only Roarke was studying her with any interest. ‘Just whimpering sounds that warned me whatever was happening in that head of yours, it wasn’t pleasant. Do you often have bad dreams?’

Glad to hear that she had stopped short of one of her more explosive nightmares, Ginny shook her head. ‘Only now and then,’ she revealed. Once she had been plagued by them. Driven to the point of exhaustion by nights of broken sleep. Time had seen them fade until now she only dreamed when she was worried or upset. It must have been Roarke’s questions about her family which had set her off this time.

She’d been dreaming of the last time she had seen her family. Her father had been as cold and remorseless as ever. Denying her entry to the house. Saying things in that harsh voice he used to show his disapproval. Things that had cut her pride to ribbons, though she had held her head high. He had seen her off as if she had been a creature from the gutter. But that was what she was to him then. No longer his daughter, just a thing he would step over in the street.

Roarke’s hand on her arm gave her a start. ‘Don’t,’ he ordered gently when she looked a query at him. ‘Come back. Wherever you just were, you clearly don’t want to be there.’

His perceptiveness brought an unexpected lump to her throat, and she had to clear it. ‘Some dreams are hard to shake off,’ she confessed, and he smiled faintly, as if he knew from experience.

‘For some of us the past isn’t a pleasant place to be, is it?’

That wasn’t a path she wanted to travel, and in order to fend him off Ginny eyed him ironically. ‘You have bad dreams? I would have thought you’d need a conscience for that.’

He wagged an admonitory finger at her. ‘Now, that wasn’t nice, sweetheart. As it happens, I do have a conscience, but I doubt very much if I could convince you of the fact. You have this habit of expecting the worst of me.’

‘A side you delight in showing me,’ she was quick to point out, and he laughed.

‘Ah, well, if you expect to catch fish you have to use the right bait, otherwise they won’t rise,’ he explained, and Ginny’s eyes narrowed.

‘Implying that I rise to the bait, I presume?’ she charged wrathfully.

‘Which you do beautifully.’

She wanted to respond to that with a furious denial, but to do so would be to rise to the lure he had just put out, and therefore confirm what he was saying. She had to satisfy herself with a baleful look and one word.

‘Snake.’

Roarke chuckled. ‘Damn, but I have to admire your self-control. You are one cool customer.’

She might look cool, but inside Ginny was seething to the point of incandescence with frustration. ‘You’re too clever by half, Roarke Adams. People like you have been known to come to a sticky end.’

‘There, you see, there’s something for you to look forward to. My comeuppance. Will you look on, gloating with satisfaction?’ he teased her, and she rolled her eyes.

‘Oh, please, gloating is so passé. I’ll probably be leading the cheering section. It will be made up of all the women you’ve toyed with over the years.’

‘I’m afraid it won’t be as large a group as you imagine. I’m on pretty good terms with most of my exes,’ he reminded her, and she knew that basically it was true. She might rag him over the ones who had taken it badly, but they were in the minority.

Ginny had never been able to understand it. How could women allow themselves to be used as they were, and still like the man when he decided it was over? ‘You must be related to Svengali,’ she said now, and Roarke smiled rakishly.

‘Sweetheart, I don’t have to hypnotise a woman to, as you’d put it, have my wicked way with her.’

‘No,’ Ginny agreed with a grimace. ‘You merely smile at them, and they turn all weak at the knees.’

‘What turns you weak at the knees, Ginny? What’s Daniel’s secret weapon?’

There was no way Ginny would tell him that if Daniel had a secret weapon he kept it well hidden. He didn’t turn her weak at the knees, and she wouldn’t want him to. She’d done that, and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. ‘That’s none of your business.’

Roarke’s smile suggested he wasn’t taken in by her response, but at least he didn’t follow it up. No, he took a different tack. ‘So, what did dear Daniel say when you told him where you were going this weekend?’

The nerves in Ginny’s body jolted uncomfortably. Picking up her magazine, she flipped it open. ‘He said nothing. Why should he have anything to say?’ she responded in an offhand manner designed to tell him how unimportant the situation was.

Roarke studied her downbent head curiously. ‘You mean he saw nothing odd in you going away with me? How open-minded of him. I didn’t think he had it in him, to be frank.’

Ginny shrugged. ‘We travel together too often for him to be upset this time,’ she offered, recalling with a tiny frown just how upset he had been.

‘True, but this is different…or doesn’t he know that?’ Roarke added thoughtfully, and Ginny groaned silently at his persistence. ‘You didn’t tell him, did you? Where does he think you are?’ The amusement in his voice made her wince.

Slapping the magazine closed, she turned to stare him out. ‘This is a business trip as far as he’s concerned. When I realised how much he dislikes you, I chose not to tell him. Are you satisfied now? Can I read my magazine in peace?’

‘Daniel dislikes me?’ he asked, sounding even more amused. ‘The man has a hidden depth. Well, well, well.’

Exasperated, Ginny was tempted to hit him with her magazine. ‘It’s not uncommon for people to dislike you, Roarke, hard as that is to believe. I dislike you too.’

‘Ah, but does he dislike me for the same reason? You see me as a womaniser. Is that what Daniel thinks too?’ Roarke mused, then snapped his fingers as an idea struck him. ‘Of course, that’s it. He’s afraid I might turn my attention to you.’

It was irritating that Roarke should hit the nail on the head so quickly. ‘I told him he had nothing to worry about. I’m not the least bit interested in you. I think I may even have mentioned a ten-foot bargepole. That desperate I’m not,’ she added sardonically for good measure.

‘Besides, you have Daniel,’ Roarke put in sagaciously.

‘Exactly,’ Ginny agreed, returning once more to her magazine. ‘I have Daniel, and I’m not in the market for anyone else.’ Saying which, she turned her shoulder on him and concentrated on the words on the page.

Roarke wasn’t to know that they were little more than a jumble of letters because her thoughts were concentrated on those brief moments when a pair of roguish grey eyes had set her nerves skittering and her heart skipping. Why they had become fascinating, she couldn’t say, but she was seeing them in a way she never had before. Added to that, she could still feel where his hand had touched her. She was aware of him, too. Physically. Suddenly she could sense him, when she had sat beside him before and never felt a thing. It was as if something had been switched on inside her, and she was far from comfortable with it. She had to be losing it to find Roarke Adams even remotely attractive. That damned chemistry had picked a fine time to rear its ugly head. However, what could be switched on could also be switched off, and that was what she was going to do. All she had to do was will it. She was a sensible person, so it shouldn’t be that difficult…should it?