Wedding-Night Baby. KIM LAWRENCE

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СКАЧАТЬ chat-up line and blue eyes? This was superficial attraction, basic. She wished hard that she hadn’t addled her senses with all the free wine.

      ‘I’d be more than happy to be your escort on an unpaid basis.’

      She was almost sure he was teasing her and the mockery helped her fight the spell that the music, the atmosphere... and Callum were weaving. ‘I’m flattered, but you’re not the sort of man I’d go out with.’

      Callum neatly avoided a collision with a couple who were both much the worse for the champagne. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of staying in,’ he admitted with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

      The breathless sensation could not be solely attributed to the neat manoeuvre that had swung her around one hundred and eighty degrees. ‘I hardly think we’re compatible.’ She couldn’t recall ever being propositioned before so the correct response was difficult to gauge. She was almost sure he was joking and it would make her appear ridiculous if she made too much of the incident.

      ‘Strange. I’ve been getting quite different messages,’ he murmured. One hand slid down her hair, letting the heavy, silky strands slide through his fingers. ‘Could it be you’re afflicted with the great British disease of being unwilling to mingle outside your own class? Would I be a social embarrassment for an upwardly mobile career woman?’ Mild but damning contempt liberally coated his words.

      ‘Are you insinuating I’m a snob?’ she replied, registering that his scornful words identified him as probably not being British. ‘I take it from your smug, egalitarian tone that you don’t hail from these shores?’

      The slight friction of his hand against the nape of her neck was sending flurries of warmth tingling through her body. His other hand had pulled her body close enough against his own for her to be aware of how taut and muscular his spare frame was. The effort to keep her head from flopping forward against the invitation of his solidly muscled chest made tiny beads of perspiration break out along her upper lip.

      ‘Are you trying to tell me that if I was an eminently respectable professional like your stuffed dummy you’d still be fighting against this attraction?’ His eyes gleamed with disdain.

      To compare this temporary insanity with what she had felt for Alex might have made her smile under less stressful circumstances. She might have worshipped Alex uncritically and, in retrospect, pathetically, but she had never felt anything nearly so insidiously primitive in his arms. Sometimes she thought her self-restraint had had a lot to do with his seeking comfort elsewhere.

      ‘I’ve given up on emotional complications in my life.’ She wished she sounded as confident about this as she had hoped she would.

      ‘This is more instinctive than emotional, don’t you think?’ he mused, a lick of grim humour in his voice.

      When she looked up there was something far more fierce than humour in his eyes—hunger. Her eyes moved of their own volition to his mouth, and the sensuous curl of his lips made her throat close over. The hot, liquid sensation in her belly expanded to flood her already unsteady limbs. The fantasy that passed before her eyes was full of texture and taste. In fact, all her senses seemed to be involved in the concept of this simple, imaginary kiss.

      ‘There speaks the male of the species,’ she retorted, her voice all the more angry because of the diversions her mind was taking. ‘A physical experience without emotions is an unrewarding one for a woman.’

      ‘I thought you’d given up on emotions?’ he said with a quirk of one eyebrow. ‘Does this mean you’ve taken a vow of chastity?’

      ‘Is that so outrageous?’

      ‘I think for some people celibacy might be a possible solution. People with a genuinely asexual personality, that is—those who pretend things they are incapable of feeling just to conform. It’s not the answer for someone as sensual as you. Repressing your true nature is no answer.’

      ‘And you’d know all about my personality!’ she snapped scornfully.

      ‘I think you’re the sort of woman who is afraid to stand up for what she believes in. You’re big on independence and self-sufficiency, but when an opportunity to display the fact is offered you, what do you do? Rush off to hire a body to wear a suit so you blend in prettily. It takes guts to stand out, Georgina,’ he drawled. ‘It seems to me you like to take the safe option.’

      His words had homed in on the disquiet she had felt about the entire face-saving exercise. Damn him! she thought, raising her turbulent eyes to his impassive face. ‘I take it I’m meant to be forced to display that I’m full of radical action by sleeping with you—not the safe option.’

      He appeared unfazed by her hot accusation. ‘You have been thinking about it, then,’ he said with a small, disturbing smile playing about the corners of his lips.

      Her vehement denial died as she met the cynical knowledge in his eyes. She acknowledged she’d just been manoeuvred into a corner by something of an expert. The music had stopped and they stayed stationary in the middle of the floor. Her attention was so concentrated on her partner than she didn’t hear Alex the first time he spoke.

      ‘Can I have the next dance, Georgie?’

      She spun around, eyes wide, her cheeks still flushed from the stimulation of her fencing with Callum.

      ‘Go ahead, sweetheart,’ Callum urged, his hand comfortably patting her behind encouragingly. He regarded the slightly younger man in an almost indulgent manner that visibly grated on Alex. ‘The least I can do, as indirectly you’re responsible for my meeting Georgina. Incidentally, she hates being called Georgie; didn’t she ever tell you?’ The music started up and he slipped away, his long strides taking him swiftly out of sight into the crowd.

      ‘Shall we?’

      Georgina pulled herself together with a tense smile. She’d been staring after Callum like a hypnotised idiot; embarrassment at this bizarre behaviour brought a fresh rush of colour to her skin. She thought wistfully of the bland partner she’d imagined.

      ‘You look well, Georgie...Georgina,’ Alex stumbled awkwardly. ‘I hardly recognised you.’

      ‘Should I be flattered? But it’s still the same old me, Alex.’ Or was she? she wondered, still in daze. The nights of bitterness and heartache, the sense of betrayal and the deep sense of inadequacy she’d fought against with all her will seemed oddly distant as she faced the object of all those thwarted desires.

      ‘You seem different.’

      She glanced at him curiously, surprised that she could be objective. He sounded faintly piqued at the transformation, which consisted mostly of a sophisticated outfit and an air of self-confidence that was three parts artifice.

      Had Alex ever looked beyond the surface? she wondered. She’d been very young when she’d met him and malleable in many ways. That had suited Alex. The only contention that had ever arisen between them had occurred when she had insisted she wanted more careerwise than a receptionist’s job. When she’d insisted on going on her business-studies course, commuting home at weekends, he’d been stiffly disapproving.

      ‘Everyone grows up, Alex,’ she observed now, with a wistfulness partly reserved for her lost naïvety. Everyone had known about Alex and Harriet for weeks before she had caught on. The constriction in her throat swelled.

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